


Hell Fire

by DanikaElfStone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, F/M, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, if you think i have any idea where this is going youve got the wrong idea, well i know what couples there are and will be but thats it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 36,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanikaElfStone/pseuds/DanikaElfStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So like logic and canon are just like optional right? Good.</p><p>Some how everyone with a name ends up at Ellen and Jo's roadhouse, and there are a lot of parties.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Will probably remain a WIP since I'm no longer in the SPN fandom, but I might write more if I feel like it. Moreover, yes I know there are many things problematic here, just because I wrote them doesn't mean I think its okay irl. Please don't hate me<b></b></b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Qualoa](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Qualoa), [Hathanta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathanta/gifts), [Rhubarbian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhubarbian/gifts).
  * Inspired by [It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Vampires](https://archiveofourown.org/works/685668) by [Hathanta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathanta/pseuds/Hathanta). 



Sam woke up with an oddly familiar feeling; something was going to happen today – he just couldn’t quite put his finger on what it could be.

“Sam!” Dean called, interrupting his thoughts, “get your lazy ass out of bed! Just got a call from Ellen, says Ash’s found something.”

Sam lifted his head from his pillow to look at Dean before promptly burying his face again due to the unexpected light coming through the open curtains.

“What kind of goddamned demon possessed you to open the curtains at this time in the morning!” Sam growled through his pillow.

“You love it don’t ya Sammy” Dean said.

In reply Sam threw his pillow at him. This had two out comes. Fortunately it hit Dean in the face. Unfortunately it now left him without a pillow and the sun beaming straight through the open curtains into his eyes, bright enough now that there was no way in hell that he was getting back to sleep now. _Great_.

“Anyhow, like I said, Ellen called. Apparently Ash found something and they want us to head up to the Road House; don’t wanna talk on the phone.”

Sam looked at Dean half quizzically, half angrily and sat up in bed groggily. Ugh. Sam hated mornings. A lot. Too much sun, too much light, too much Dean. Dean with his habit of making mornings “interesting”, as Dean put it, or “a pain in the freaking ass”, as Sam put it. Sam swung his legs out of bed and headed towards the shower.

***

A few hours later and Sam and Dean were in the car, ACDC blaring out through the stereo, streaking down the highway. Sam was reading and Dean was driving, tapping his hands on the wheel to the music. They stopped for lunch around noon; they grabbed a couple of burgers from the drive through, but sat in the parking lot to eat them. Sam glanced out the open window and saw a tall man, with dark hair and a leather jacket. He was standing with his back to them. He had the strange feeling that he had seen that man before. When he glanced back at the man, he was gone. Sam dismissed it as a trick of the light, but there was something about it that niggled at the back of his mind.

The day passed mostly without incident, not counting the time Dean spilled coffee on himself whilst trying to play air guitar and drink at the same time. The rest of the drive was relatively uneventful.

Until about three hours from Ellen’s. They had stopped for gas; Dean was sleeping in the back seat of the Impala as Sam filled the tank, when Sam caught a glimpse of a man standing across the lot from him. He was tall with dark hair, and a leather jacket. The man was leaning against a beat up car, and looking in the opposite direction so Sam couldn’t see his face. It was the same guy as before, Sam could have sworn it. Sam was starting to get the creep factor from this dude.

Sam rapped on the car window, waking Dean who rolled down the window. “Dean!” Sam cut over him in a low voice, “See that guy over there in the corner of the lot? You recognise him at all?”

“Not really. Can’t see him all that well to be honest.” Dean replied, squinting over at the man, “Why do you ask?”

“I dunno, man, I just have this weird feeling about him you know? I swear I saw him earlier, when we stopped for lunch. And I definitely recognise him from somewhere.”

“You think he’s been following us?”

“Dude! I’m /telling/ you I know he’s been following us!”

“C’mon man! You’re just being paranoid. Hey, get me a coffee will you?” Dean said before slumping back into the car and winding the window back up again. It was getting sort of late, but it was Dean's turn to drive next.

Sam huffed and walked over to pay for the gas and get Dean his freaking coffee. Sam _knew_ what he had seen, he was certain of it. Dean hadn’t seen how the man had disappeared so quickly earlier. Dean ought to trust him more; he was his brother after all.

Sam was in line for the coffee machine some guy up front in a leather jacket was taking forever. Sam was waiting patiently, knowing that the wait would piss Dean off; and that was just fine by him.

Finally the coffee machine was free. Sam began slowly counting through his change when a hand grabbed him from behind, smothering him so he couldn’t breathe. The man had taken Sam by surprise, but Sam knew how to handle himself in a fight. Sam struggled to get his head free. But Sam hadn’t anticipated the man’s strength. Sam tried swinging an elbow into his attacker’s ribs; he flinched but kept his grip tight. Sam tried everything he knew to get the man to loosen his grip, but to no avail; he was simply too strong for Sam. Sam's assailant adjusted his grip and smashed his head against the coffee machine, leaving Sam feeling dazed with a throbbing temple; at least he could breathe now.

Sam swung a clumsy blow in the direction of his aggressor, it missed. Sam found himself being grabbed by the neck and he saw the man pull a cloth from his pocket and press it against Sam's face. Sam could smell the chemicals emanating from it. Chloroform.

 _Fuck!_ Sam thought as he descended into dark unconsciousness.

The man lifted Sam over his shoulder with ease and nodded at the man at the check-out before swiftly leaving through the back door. Sam's change lay forgotten on the floor.


	2. Understanding

“Riing Riing… Riing Riing… Click. Hey this is Sam's phone leave a message or call my brother Dean.”

“Damn it Sam!” Dean growled as he slammed his phone shut. It was his third try calling Sam after her hadn’t come back. Dean had asked the guy at the check-out if he had seen Sam but he claimed not to have seen anything. Dean had also asked about the guy Sam had seen earlier, but apparently the guy had “not been paying attention”.

_“Not been paying attention” my ass_ Dean thought, as he looked at the guy suspiciously. Where the hell _was_ his brother? Evidently there had been some sort of struggle; blood on the coffee machine, change scattered on the floor, and a coffee left abandoned in the machine. Sloppy. This was good news for Dean, for Sam, not so good news for whoever – whatever – had taken him. Unfortunately there was no way of telling which way they had gone.

Dean headed back towards the car, lying to himself that he wasn’t as worried about his brother as he was. The last time Sam had disappeared without a trace he’d been possessed by Meg. But it couldn’t be Meg this time for two reasons. First Sam and Dean had sent that bitch back to hell where she belonged, and second Bobby had given them both anti-possession tokens – not that they had any proof that they worked, although they trusted Bobby well enough. Dean yanked the car door shut and put the key in the ignition. He drove the car around to the back of the gas station and pulled up in the shadows of the building.

***

Sam came round to a darkened motel room. He was aware of a throbbing in his left temple and his arms were aching. He tried to move them but they were tied securely behind his back.

_Crap_ , Sam thought, _not again_. Sam realised he should have guessed it would have been Luther the moment he’d seen the guy in the leather jacket early on in the day. He cursed himself for being so goddamn stupid. This was beginning to become a habit of Luther’s; kidnapping him, tying him up, harassing him, letting him go. Rinse and repeat. Sam really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Sam shook his head trying to clear the muggy feeling left by the chloroform, but all it gained him was a dizzy feeling. He stopped trying to shake his head, wanting to be able to think as clearly as he could.

“You’re awake.”  Luther said behind him. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

Sam heard the heavy thunk of footsteps as Luther moved to crouch in front of him. Luther ran his hands through Sam's hair, pushing it away from his face.

“You should wear your hair pushed back. It’s much _sexier_.” Luther said in a menacingly low voice.

“What’s your game Luther?” Sam asked. He was used to Luther’s tendencies by now, but that didn’t mean he had any better idea of what was running through that vamp’s head. One minute he was sexually harassing him, the next he was plotting to kill him, then he was letting him free again. This fang was certainly _very_ conflicted.

Luther let his hand drop from Sam's hair and fall to his side. He sighed and stood up to face away from Sam. The thing was Luther was strong, much stronger than Sam. Sam knew from experience that the best way to get out of these situations was to try to get Luther to talk himself out of it, whatever he was planning to do, be it murder or no.

“You remember the first time we met?” Luther said quietly, before continuing, not waiting for a reply. “You remember it was because Kate had killed Elkins. She was always stupid. But it brought you and your family to us. I didn’t want any fighting. I just wanted to be left alone. The pack was fragile, we tried to keep a low profile, not always easy what with the diet, but manageable most of the time. Anyway you came along, and you weren’t like the others, you weren’t even like your own family that much. You understood. That’s a rare quality, even amongst normal people, let alone hunters.”

“I’m still not getting it.” Sam pressed, trying to figure a way out.

“The thing is, Sammy, not only do you understand me, but we are alike, you and I. You see where to draw the line where most would not.”

“A quality you don’t seem to share.” Sam muttered. This earned him a hard blow from Luther, right across his jaw. Sam made a mental note to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. “What I meant was, this whole kidnapping thing, not so cool man.”

“I know, goddamnit!” Luther snarled, “How else do you think I’d get to see you with your machine of a brother hanging around all the time?!”

Sam had to acknowledge that Luther did have a point. Albeit a slightly creepy point, but a point nonetheless.

“Luther, please don’t hit me this time, but that is seriously creepy dude. Also why do you want to kill me?”

“Because… damnit! Shut up Sam!” Luther spluttered. It seemed Luther couldn’t explain to himself his motivations clearly, let alone illustrate them to Sam.

Luther moved back into a crouch before Sam in one swift movement. Luther untied Sam from the chair, and stepped back quickly, giving Sam his space, for once. Sam shook his arms out, erasing the ache. He stopped and looked up at Luther, who was staring at him.

“Seriously man, I don’t even care anymore, I just wanna know what you’re on about.” Sam said.

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Luther muttered, more to himself than to Sam, running a hand through his hair.

“Luther, would you mind giving me my phone back? I gotta call Dean.” Luther made a motion as if to strike Sam again, but Sam spoke again before he made contact, “It’s just, you don’t really wanna have my brother storming in here with a machete, now do you?”

Luther could hardly fail to see the logic in Sam's reasoning, and so drew Sam's phone from one of his pockets and tossed it across the room to him.

Sam dialled Dean's number, but before he hit call he said, “I’m sorry about Kate. It was wrong of us to have killed her.”

“Who gives a toss about her?” Luther spat.

Sam wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about, but something in Luther’s eyes made him think twice and he called Dean.


	3. A Change of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Luther get "talking" while Ellen and Jo start to worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write.  
> Please remember, when reading this, that it is crack.

“That was Sam” Ellen said, as Jo walked into the bar, “Says they won’t get here until tomorrow; come across a ‘minor obstacle’”.

“Did he say what?” Jo asked.

“No. And he didn’t say when I asked either.”

“We going to tell Ash?”

“No. he’ll not even notice.”

“Do you think they’re in trouble?”

“If they are not here by this time tomorrow we’ll go look for them. ‘Till then we stay put.” Ellen said sternly. She was not to be messed with. And, although she knew she could, and would, be as good as her word, Ellen couldn’t help but worry that Jo would take things into her own hands, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Jo looked down at her hands before saying, “When do the others get here?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, according to Emily,” Ellen replied as Jo yawned, “Go to bed, honey, its late. You’ll need to be able to think straight tomorrow.”

Jo headed to bed with an uneasy feeling. She was concerned about Sam. He had been so vague in his message, and she worried that he may not have been entirely free to say what had actually been happening. The last time Jo had seen Sam was the time he had been possessed. She got chills every time she thought about it. That was part of the reason she had returned to the Roadhouse, although she could take on spirits left right and centre, she knew that tackling the yellow eyed demon was bigger than any of that. It was bigger than any feud she might have with her mother. Sleep. That was what was needed now.

***

Sam sat alone the motel room, waiting for Luther to return. He’d disappeared thirty minutes ago muttering something about getting something to eat. Sam tried not to think too hard about what Luther was doing at that very moment. He had tried to stop him but that had just earned him another blow to the head. Sam knew Dean would be pissed; it was not particularly difficult to escape crappy motel rooms. He also knew that, for some reason, he wanted to wait for Luther to return. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he wasn’t going to think about that now. It was still true, though.

The door opened and Luther strode in and Sam stood. In his hand Luther carried a black ruck sack that was all but empty.

“You’re still here.” Luther said, trying to hide his surprise.

“Er… yeah.” Sam replied sheepishly.

Luther shut the door behind him, and dropped the ruck sack against the wall. He took a few quick steps forward until he was a foot or so away from Sam. Luther was an inch shorter than Sam but he still managed to inspire a flicker of fear in Sam when he stood so close.

“Why?” Luther snarled menacingly.

Sam tried to take a step back but the backs of his legs hit the chair, causing him to fall into it. From this level Luther towered over Sam, adding to the vampire’s threatening deportment. Sam made to stand up again, but the vamp seemed to have other ideas. Luther put a hand on Sam's shoulder and pushed him back into the chair. Sam looked around, searching for something he could use as a weapon, but anything he could have used was out of reach.

Luther wound his hand through Sam's hair, gripping his thick hair behind Sam's head and pulling his head back.

_Not again_ Sam thought thinking back to the previous times Luther had kidnapped him. He hated how Luther forced himself on Sam. What he hated more, however, was the dreams that followed. Sam tried not to think about _those_ dreams. They were between him and his subconscious; they were far too prominent in his dreams to think about consciously as well.

Luther straddled Sam and brought his lips to Sam's neck. Sam flinched, but Luther only strengthened his grip on Sam's hair.

“Keep, _still!_ ” Luther growled against Sam's neck. “How many times do I need to tell you that?”

Luther took his other hand and clamped it around Sam's chin. He brought his face to Sam's, pressing their lips together in a rough kiss. Sam tried to push him away but Luther was far too strong for him. Luther flicked his tongue out along Sam's lips, and forced them open. His breath was hot and tasted of Jack Daniels’. Sam almost laughed. He really oughtn’t to have been surprised; Luther was a man of habit if nothing else.

Sam wriggled his head in an effort to escape Luther’s kiss, but Luther’s hand held him tight. A thought suddenly occurred to him; Luther had fangs. He was surprised at himself for only _just_ realising this. Sam was now very aware of this as Luther continued the forced kiss.

Luther broke away from the kiss for a moment, and reached over to the black ruck sack retrieving a half full bottle of whiskey. He took a swig, and Sam watched as the golden liquid sloshed in the bottle.

“Luther.” Sam sighed. Luther brought the bottle away from his mouth and looked at Sam quizzically. “Luther, why do you do this?”

Luther considered these words. He put the bottle on the floor and took Sam's wrists into his hands. He inhaled the scent of Sam's blood pumping quickly under his skin. Luther’s hands lingered, taking his time to answer. When he finally dropped Sam's wrists and looked back up at him, he had a peculiar look in his eyes. It was an odd mixture of hunger and sadness.

“Because I _want_ you Sam.” Luther breathed in a deep, gruff voice.

He leant back down and kissed Sam again, and Sam groaned. There was no denying it anymore; Sam wanted this fang too. Sam began to kiss him back. Luther, surprised at this Sam's sudden volunteered enthusiasm, kissed him harder. And Sam found himself tangling one hand in Luther’s hair, which was almost as long as his own, and the fingers of his other hand dug into the think leather of the back of Luther’s jacket.


	4. Poker

Sam sat in the passenger seat of Luther’s beat up old Toyota truck, as Luther sped down the highway towards the Roadhouse. He was anxious about Dean; he had no idea how he would react. Either way it was risky taking a _vampire_ to the roadhouse, which was practically only frequented by hunters. Sam had told Luther this when he had offered him a lift, but he had ignored his warnings.

They were only ten minutes from Ellen’s, which meant only ten minutes from explaining… this.

“Luther?”

“Hmm?” Luther said as he took swig of whiskey.

“Err, well two things really. Again vampire plus hunter gathering place probably not a good idea. And secondly seeing as you are ignoring my first point” Luther nodded, “how are we explaining this to Dean?”

“He’s _your_ brother.” Was all Luther said, and he kept his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, but I was kinda hoping you could help me out here.” Sam cast him a look, but got nothing in return.

They sat in silence for the rest of the drive. It wasn’t far, only two and a half hours tops. Neither Sam nor Luther minded the quiet; in fact it suited the pair quite well. Sam liked it because it gave him time to think. Luther on the other hand simply didn’t like talking. End of.

As they were pulling into the yard of the Roadhouse Sam started to get more anxious about the whole vampire-boyfriend-meets-family-of-hunters thing.

 _Too late to change your mind now Sammy boy,_ he thought to himself.

The odd couple walked up the porch steps and into the bar, where Dean was sat playing poker with Ash and Jo. Bottles of beer sat on the table alongside cards and chips. They were so engrossed in their game that none of them noticed Sam and Luther enter the room. Although Sam was mildly apprehensive about coming out to everyone there and then, Luther, it seemed, had no trouble striding up to the poker table and throwing down a twenty onto the pile of chips.

“Alright Sammy? Took your time getting– you’re not Sam.” Dean said as he looked up and realised that although the man looked awfully similar – the hair, the height – Sam, as far as he was aware, was not in the habit of wearing studded leather jackets and biker boots.

“Observant brother you have here.” Luther said over his shoulder to Sam as he sat at an unoccupied chair before back at Dean, “You gonna deal me in or not?”

“Sam are you gonna tell me what the hell’s going on here?” Dean demanded.

Sam shifted uncomfortably by the door, not quite meeting his brother’s eyes. Luther sensed his distress and growled under his breath, making Jo jump.

Sam started to explain but his voice trailed off half way through the first word of his sentence. He tried this multiple times before Luther finally got so annoyed with Sam being such a pussy that he finally intervened.

“Allow me.” Luther murmured suddenly standing up and moving to Sam's side. He pulled Sam in front of him and crushed him tightly against his body, one hand curled up Sam's chest, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. He twisted his head round Sam's neck to nip playfully at his ear, before looking back at the group. “Get it yet Dean?”

“So, all this time you kept being ‘kidnapped’” he made air quotes with his hands as he said this word, “you were actually just shacking up with him?” Dean's face was a mask but his voice betrayed him, he could not have found this situation funnier if the yellow eyed demon himself had popped up with antlers on his head.

“NO!” Sam cried, “I mean, well technically this last time wasn’t exactly… but whatever. But the other times it was strictly kidnap attempted murder release!” Sam decided that Dean _really_ didn’t need to know about the various _elements_ of his previous kidnappings. He _especially_ didn’t need to know about the dreams – not even Luther could know about those. Ever.

“Sure, sure. And I’m in love with an angel.” Dean said sarcastically.

“Okay, man, whatever. So now we’re all here, wait where’s Ellen?” Sam said.

“Here.” Ellen walked into the room her arms folded, “You took your sweet time getting here though.” Completely ignoring the vampire who currently had his arms wrapped around the one very tall, very handsome hunter by the name Sam Winchester.

“Okay, right, so what was it you guys wanted to tell us?”

“Actually, _we_ didn’t want to tell you anything, some friends of yours did. They thought it best to tell you in person, and where better for two sets of hunters to meet if not here?”

“And before you ask, they’re not here yet. Should be getting here sometime this afternoon.” Jo interjected as she saw Dean open his mouth to speak.

“Looks like we’ve got some time to kill.” Luther said disentangling himself from Sam and moving back to his chair at the poker table and nodded at Ash, “Deal me in.”

Ellen tutted and moved to leave for the back again, but Sam caught her just before saying, “Have you got a bottle of Jack Daniel’s?”

Luther didn’t look up, but Sam saw his mouth twitch up into a smile.


	5. Awkward Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the crew shows up, and things get a little bit awkward...

Sam tilted back in his chair and yawned, stretching his hands behind his head. The others were still playing poker but he had tires of it when he had lost all his money to Jo around lunch time, but he had been happy enough to watch them play for a while.

“You alright there Sam?” Ellen asked as she entered the bar from the back room.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, getting up from the table to sit with her at the bar, “lost all my money to Jo so I thought I’d throw the towel in before I lost my laptop to her as well.” He chuckled.

“Your boyfriend, over there,” she said ignoring Sam’s joke, “he seems a bit strange. I don’t like it; he puts me on edge, I just can’t put my finger on why.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said uncomfortably, “weeeeelll, he’s _kind_ of a vampire…”

“He’s a WHAT now Sam!” Ellen shouted.

The others looked up from their game of poker to see what Ellen was shouting about. Luther sat back in his seat and took a swig from the almost empty bottle of whiskey.

“Calm down Ellen!” Sam shouted, “Look I understand your concern, honestly I do, but you gotta trust me here! Luther is safe ok? I promise you he’s not gonna hurt anyone!”

“What’s going on?” Jo demanded, looking accusingly at Luther.

“Sam's boyfriend here is a freaking VAMPIRE!!!” Ellen informed them.

“But he’s killed people!” Jo shouted.

“I know but guys! Come on! He’s…” Sam's voice trailed away, unsure of what to say next.

It was Dean's turn to speak next. He stood up and gestured with his arms for quiet.

“Cool it guys! Look, if my brother says he’s safe then he’s safe. I trust his judgement and so should you.” Dean turned to Sam and said, “Although, dude, seriously? A vampire? They’ve got, you know, fangs!”

“They’re not fangs! It’s another row of teeth!” Luther muttered, looking down and shaking his head disparagingly. Honestly it was as if they didn’t know squat about vampires, which as a reflection, he thought they probably didn’t.

“Finally! The great mime speaks!” Ash called. He had been surprisingly cool about the whole thing, which Sam thought was a great credit to the guy.

“I’m not mute!” Luther growled, his eyes flashing.

“I don’t like this, I mean, he’s gotta eat, and what do vampires eat?”

“Cheese burgers.” Jo chuckled.

“O har-freaking-har! They drink blood! Are you guys gonna volunteer to have your body sucked dry by Sam's boyfriend?”

Dean snickered but shut up when Ellen shot him a look of dagger.

Sam was stumped at this. It was true Luther did need to eat, and Luther _was_ a vampire so the diet was a no brainer, but where was he gonna get a supply of blood? And they _were_ hunters; their job was to kill creatures like him, to save people from his kind.

“Look we can get blood from the blood banks they keep for hospitals. Don’t any of you even dare mention animal blood because no way, you live off dirt then I’ll drink animal blood. That stuff’s foul as sour milk no way.” Luther said, tipping his chair back with his feet on the table and his hands behind his head, calm as anything, “I won’t deny that you all smell _delicious_ and that frozen blood is no substitute far from, but I’ll manage- or at least I’ll try if it means so much to you.”

As he said these last words he was looking straight at Sam, with a longing look in his eyes that was hard to decipher.

Sam looked at his feet, unable to meet Luther’s eye. It wasn’t fair he was sacrificing too much for him. Sam wasn’t selfish enough to think that Luther was doing _all_ this for him, he knew Luther was doing it for his own, ah, enjoyment much more than for his. But he still felt extremely grateful, and guilty.

“I guess that’s ok.” Ellen said begrudgingly fixing Luther with a cold stare, which he ignored happily rocking back and forth on his chair.

“Well well well. What have we here? I didn’t think a _vampire_ was part of the arrangement Ellen! Boy! You are full of surprises!”

They all looked around in surprise to see who the owner of the voice was.

In the doorway was standing an odd array of people, all of which were recognisable by Sam and Dean, one face in particular.

“Dad!” Dean yelled before stopping short when he saw the man standing behind him, the owner of the voice. “What the hell is going on here Dad?! You-you’re… what?” Dean spluttered.

Standing behind John in the door way was none other than the Yellow Eyed Demon himself.

“You.” Sam growled.

YED smiled and said, “Hello Sammy, I’ve been looking forward to our meeting, your Dad here’s been telling me all about you, and Dean.” He added with a wink in Dean's direction.

“Oi, Azazel!” John said, shoving him in the shoulder, “They’re my _kids!_ ”

Meanwhile Sam looked around at the other people who had come in with them; Missouri a blonde girl and a blonde boy and a slightly taller – slightly older? – brown haired boy. Sam recognised the brown haired boy from a while back. In fact Sam recognised all of them.

There was an awkward sort of silence where old yellow eyes was smirking and John was glaring at him.

“I _told_ you he was gay!” the blonde haired boy said, turning to the girl.

“What?!” Sam exclaimed, and they all laughed.

“Michael! What did we say about just blurting out whatever’s going through your head!” she chided.

“Sorry?” Michael said, not looking sorry, at all.

“Wait… your name is Michael? Do I know you from somewhere?” Dean asked.

“Yep, we met a year or two ago, you know I helped you out with that thing that was killing all those kids.”

“Oh yeah… you were the kid who thought Sam and I were _together_.” Dean said.

“Well I was _sort_ of right wasn’t I? I mean, you _are_ gay.”

“Er… well _Sam_ is but me? No! No no no no no no no! Nope nope nope nope not me! I am _completely_ one hundred per cent straight. _I like women!!!”_ Dean said, panicking slightly.

“A bit over defensive” Michael muttered.

Dean moved forward ready to fight him over it, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his chest. He shook his head and gave him a disapproving look. Dean rolled his eyes in reply. The two of them, it seemed, had an entire conversation just through looks, ending with Dean cursing and sitting down.

“So are we just gonna sit here yapping about the boys’ love lives or are we gonna get down to business?” Missouri said sassily.

“I agree,” Ellen said, “Follow me; we’ll do this in the back.”

Ellen led them all through into a back room with tattered brown leather sofas and a battered coffee table. They sat down and Michael looked especially small next to Sam.

“Azazel, why don’t you tell us what you know.” Ellen said.

“Sure thing, sugar. Well, being a demon, I happen to have been in hell a fair few times, so I kinda know what’s going on down there. You know how demons talk, yes a lot of the time it happens to be lies, but fairly often they tell the truth, more often than you would think. But anyway, the thing is, last time I was there I heard this one de-” Azazel stopped talking as he saw Meg stumble into the room wearing sunglasses and clutching a Starbucks cup in her hand.

“Where have you been?” Missouri tutted, “You’re fifteen minutes late!”

“Sorry… party at Ruby’s last night… still hung-over…” Meg mumbled sitting in the empty space on the smallest sofa, almost sitting on Jo, “Carry on _Dad_.”

 **“** Right, where was I?” Azazel said, “Oh yeah, well there was this one demon, right, and he said that he heard this other demon said that there was this demon who overheard Lucifer talking to this other guy. But anyway the point is Lucifer was talking about Sam Winchester.”

There was a moment of silence as they were all taking what he had just said in.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Meg said, “When… was this?”

“About two months ago.” Azazel said.

“You do realise… that that was… me Luci was… talking to… right? We were talking about … umm” Meg blushed as she looked at Sam.

“What in hell were _you_ doing talking to Lucifer?” Azazel demanded.

“Umm guys I can’t help but feel that we shouldn’t keep saying his name like that you know…” Sam suggested.

“What, are you scared of old Lucifer? Lucifer! Lucifer! Lucifer! Lucifer!!” Azazel said.

“What _I_ want to know is, what the hell – no pun intended – are _you_ doing helping us out. No actually… what I _really_ want to know is why _you_ , Dad, seem to be all chummy with YE- _Azazel_.” Dean demanded.

“I… er… well…” John said, shifting _very_ uncomfortably in his seat.

Azazel looked down at his hands, then at John’s. “Well you see the thing is,” he put his hands into John’s lap and clasped John’s in his own, he drew them to his lips and kissed them, “well, do I need to elaborate, ol’ Deany boy?”

“Aaaawwwkwwwaaarrdd!!!” Meg sang, and everybody laughed.


	6. Ship Wars

Dean was outside the building by the bins. He was fuming; his Dad and Azazel we _together_. He couldn’t even conceive it. Just how did that even happen in the first place? The last time he checked John was hunting Azazel down to kill him; John had been hell bent on ending him, and now he was _with_ him… Dean kicked one of the bins. He kicked it again and again and again and then one more time.

“AAARRRGGGHH!!!!!” Dean shouted.

That wretched demon had not only killed his mother but it had pretty much destroyed his life. He wanted him dead. Dean wanted to waste the motherfucking demon. He wanted to send him back into the fiery pit from whence he came to suffer for eternity for what he had done.

Dean began kicking the bins again. They made a satisfying clang each time his foot connected with the metal. He didn’t care that his foot was numb and void of all feeling – the anger had blocked all feeling from his mind.

“Stop that.” A deep voice said from behind him.

Dean turned and saw a man, a little shorter than himself, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a suit under a light tan trench coat.

“Where did you…? How…? Who are you?” Dean asked, confused.

“I am an angel of the lord.” The man said.

“You’re an _eel_ of the lord?” Dean asked his face torn between laughing, the remnants of his anger and his growing befuddlement.

“ _Angel_. Aaaannngggeellll.” The angel coughed, clearing his throat before adding, in a slightly higher tone “God, talking so ethereally all the time really does your voice in.”

“Okay…” Dean says, “You got a name?”

“Castiel.” The angel said, his voice sinking back into its deep ethereal texture.

Dean was stunned by this creature; his voice was like velvet, his eyes were so intense Dean felt as though he was looking into his soul. Dean couldn’t help but notice that Castiel was so very fascinatingly beautiful.

“Would... Would you like to get some pie?” Castiel asked.

“Abso-posi-lutely!” Dean said his anger all but forgotten, “You, my friend, can ride shotgun.”

***

“I hope Dean's alright,” Jo said to no-one in particular, “It can’t be easy finding out your Dad's screwing the dude who basically fucked your life over.”

“It’s not easy finding out your Dad's been screwing a dude.” Meg said. She was lying down on the small tattered sofa, sunglasses still on and empty Starbucks wedged between the cushions. The others had left the room and it was just her, Jo, and Luther.

Jo pulled her hair back into a pony tail. She was lying upside down in the only armchair, her head dangling above the floor and her feet hooked over the back of the chair. Luther snored – his sleeping pattern had been messed up lately, he was not used to being awake so much during the day.

“Meg – I still find this weird that I’m talking to a demon and not having to kill you or whatever – anyway, Meg, what’s it like in hell?” Jo asked.

“Like hell. It’s a pretty shitty place, but – don’t tell anyone this especially not my Dad or the Winchesters – but it’s not too bad once you get used to it, or well once your humanity falls away, and if Luci likes you, most of the time it’s like a sauna made of rotting flesh and bone. But the worst part? No internet connection!!!”

“Oh dear lord! How do you survive?”

“Well sweet talking Luci, of course, occasionally he gave let me use his Wi-Fi.”

***

“Hey Matt!” Michael called, “You finished that fic yet?”

“Yep, just uploading it now.”

“Don’t you just love Sam and Luther together? They’re, like, the cutest couple!” Michael said in hushed tones, even though they were the only two in the room – they had no idea where anyone else was.

“I guess, although, I love the idea of Meg and Sam together, you know? Like, do you remember Sam telling us about that time she tied him up and tried to have it on with him?”

“Yeah, but did you not see the way she was looking at Jo earlier? And the way she basically sat on her lap? There has _got_ to be something going on there, at least on Meg’s side of things.”

“I guess I ship sluther, then Sam/Meg, then Meg/Jo.” Matt concluded.

“Nuh-uh! Sluther then Meg/Jo then Sam/Meg! Sam/Meg is by _far_ the weakest ship of the selection here!” Michael argued.

“Oh come _on_!” Matt began but Ellen walked into the room.

“What are you two boys yappin’ about?” she asked, “There’s work to be done.”

“Bu–” Michael began, before Matt trod on his toe. “Err… I mean sure.”

Matt rolled his eyes but at least Michael hadn’t blurted out everything they had been talking about. God he cringed at the thought of having to explain shipping to Ellen, let alone RPF!

*******

Luther jolted awake, he was alone in the back room, and only one lamp was on. He had been dreaming, but he couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about. He rocked his head back on his shoulders and sighed. He shook his head, trying to clear it of sleep. He had no idea what the time was, nor did he care, particularly; it didn’t matter to him whether it was night or day.

Luther stood up and reached for his ever present bottle of whiskey but found it was gone. He looked around him and couldn’t see it anywhere. Angry now, he strode out of the back room and into the bar. It was empty apart from Jo and Sam who were talking in a corner. Luther crossed the room in a matter of seconds, his long legs covering the distance easily. He rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked stood up awkwardly.

“Someone took my whiskey.” He said plainly.

Jo laughed but Sam and Luther shot her a look simultaneously and the effect was rather menacing, so much so, in fact, that it _actually did_ shut her up.

“What up bitches?” Meg cried swaggering in.

“Meg. … oh … er hi?” Jo said trying not to sound flustered. And failing.

“Hey, Meg, you don’t happen to have any idea what happened to Luther’s whiskey, do you?” Sam asked.

“Er that well I dunno? Well I er walked into the room and I er sat down and I er read a book and I er saw a bottle and er I well I drank it.” Meg said.

“So the fact that the bottle was in my hand as I slept meant what?” Luther spat.

“What really? I did not see that.”

Jo was laughing nervously now.

“Typical.” Sam grunted through gritted teeth. Luther growled at her menacingly.

“Ooh trying to scare me now, are we? Did not see that one coming. Oh look I’m quaking in my boots!” Meg chuckled sarcastically.

Sam rolled his eyes and slumped back down into the booth. After a moment’s hesitation he tugged on the sleeve of Luther’s jacket and pulled him down into the booth next to him. Luther slid his arm around his shoulders and stole Jo’s beer – it was no substitute for whiskey, but it would do.

“Why do you drink so much anyway?” Jo asked hesitantly.

Luther just glared at her over the top of the green glassed bottle.

Meg had slid into the booth next to Jo and was grinning mischievously. Neither Sam nor Luther trusted her, not one bit.

Just then Matt and Michael stumbled into the room laptops in hand laughing hysterically. They sobered up for a moment when they saw the four “adults” sat somewhat awkwardly together, before bursting into an entirely new fit of laughter, even more exuberant than the first.


	7. I Can't Decide

John was sat outside on a rickety old bench leaning against the wall of the Roadhouse, cleaning up one of his better guns when YED walked round the corner. At first he didn’t notice him, but he looked up when he felt the bench shift under new weight of Azazel sat next to him.

“Hey,” YED said, stoking the hair back from John’s face with his left hand.

The corner of John’s lips curled up in a half smile. “Well, at least the boys haven’t tried to exorcise you yet… or Meg.” He said in an almost cheery tone.

They sat there basking in the fading sunlight talking until they heard the sound of Metallica in the distance. _Dean_ John thought. He wasn’t wrong, a few moments later the impala swung into view. They watched as Dean got out of the impala… and was joined by a dark haired man in a tan trench coat. John didn’t exactly feel like he was in any sort of position to judge Dean, given his life choices…

YED cursed and spat, and made a very disgruntled noise from behind him.

 “What?” he asked.

“Angel, that’s what.” He didn’t just sound flustered, he sounded _scared_.

“You do realise that they’re supposed to be the good guys right? You’re supposed to be the bad guys.” John said rolling his eyes, “No, wait, you _are_ the bad guys.”

This made YED laugh slightly, although he was still looking a little sick.

“I’m sure it’s ok, I don’t completely mistrust Dean's judgement – despite what he might tell you.”

YED shrugged but still looked incredibly uneasy.

John took his hand and kissed his hand gently, “Don’t be such a pussy.”

YED glared at him, he hated his manliness being questioned. John knew this, and knew that his choice of words was very likely to get YED to man up and go inside. He had to admit to himself that he probably wouldn’t have bothered so much had he not been so cold; he’d left his coat inside so only had three layers on – and in September as well!

They walked into the bar hand in hand and saw Sam, Luther, Meg and Jo sat in a booth. Dean was sat backwards on a chair and the mysterious new comer – the _angel_ – was standing awkwardly behind him, slightly too close. The two boys were in the corner on their laptops giggling. Ellen, Ash, Missouri, and Emily were nowhere to be seen – again. It seemed they preferred civilised company, not the rabble that seemed to be congregating in the bar these days. They were probably in the back room, John thought idly. Well not Ash; he was probably gaming in his room.

The group crowded into the booth seemed to be doing introductions. YED was feeling left out, despite his misgivings about his proximity to an angel. He dragged John over to join them.

“Dad.” Sam, Dean, and Meg said at the same time. They all laughed – apart from Luther and Castiel.

They made their introductions. That bastard Castiel knew their names and who they were already, by some divine fucking right or whatever. YED was very much displeased.

The group – now doubled in size – moved another table to sit at the end of the one in the booth and they spent the rest of the evening in awkward conversation, YED and Castiel trying not to catch each other’s eyes – neither one too comfortable with their natural enemy being only a few feet away and not being able to do anything about it, be it fight or flight.

***

“Have you seen Pyro girl around?” Matt asked Michael in hushed tones – they were trying to avoid being noticed by the “adults”.

“Nah, I think she’s with Ellen and Lady- er.. Missouri.” He quickly corrected himself; he wasn’t sure whether or not Missouri had super hearing or mind reading or whatever over long distances.

“Oh, right, well whatever… have you read my latest chapter about Sam and Luther going to the movies and accidentally seeing _twilight_?” he asked.

“Oh my god that was brilliant!!” he squealed quietly, “You got Luther’s reaction to those _‘vampires’_ perfect! It’s just the way I’d imagine him to react to it!!”

“I’m glad you liked it!” he was genuinely pleased. It really frustrated him that no one appreciated his passion – just because it was unusual or odd. His parents had been the same before he left them behind in favour of becoming a hunter with Missouri and Emily – or pyro girl, as he and Michael had nicknamed her; she did have a certain proficiency for starting fires, and she certainly did enjoy it. Michael had joined the team a few months later, inexplicitly latching onto Matt like a limpet.

Although he enjoyed his new hobby of writing – especially writing fics – he still loved to study bugs, unfortunately it had been very inconvenient on the road.

“I’m definitely glad you gave up on that whole Sam/Meg thing, I don’t know _what_ you were thinking!” Michael laughed.

“Well once I saw that the Meg/Jo thing is almost deffo becoming canon any day now, I really didn’t want to have _two_ conflicting ships.” Matt explained.

“Oh what do you think about John and Azazel?” Michael asked, “I mean I know we suspected the reason they were cooperating for like forever, but how do you feel about them becoming canon? I’m in two minds about it.”

“Hmm… yeah well for one thing I think it’s great they’re all out and proud now, although I guess it does pose a problem for Sam and Dean… you know what with him killing their mother and all.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget that this makes Meg their sister of sorts.”

“Wow, all these ships and the whole ‘family doesn’t end in blood’ thing these guys seem to be so fond of, our ships seem really complicated,”

“Not to mention a little creepy at times. D’you remember when we shipped Meg and Azazel! That was before we knew they were, like, family or anything, but still!”

They laughed, “Oh god, yeah!” Matt laughed harder.

“You know, I’m surprised more shit hasn’t gone down, you know? Like, I would at least have thought that there would be _some_ conflict between Meg and Dean?” Michael asked speculatively.

Little did he know that it wouldn’t be long until this thought would be turned into reality.

***

In fact it wasn’t until over a fortnight later that any sort of confrontation occurred. Of course there had been the now routine argument about Meg stealing Luther’s whiskey – which was entirely unnecessary since they were _in a bar_.

The crew had fallen into a sort of rhythm. Everyone knew that Luther’s... ah, favourite time of day was about four or five in the morning, so they all had their head phones at the ready. It was also common knowledge that Dean would go out to get pie with Cas at three in the afternoon, and would often not return until about six or seven, leaving the rest of them very suspicious indeed, although no one said anything. Jo spent this time playing cards with Ash, it was always a fairly even match so there were never any major wins or losses in those games. Meg disappeared to some party almost every other night and never returned until sometime the next morning. YED had to remind her to be careful or she’d wear out that body and would have to find a new one. Meg just shrugged and said that the next body better have better legs.

The conflict occurred when Dean and Cas had gone out for pie. At the time YED had been in the back yard with John soaking up the last of that year’s sunshine. He had left his leather jacket inside on a bar stool. John and YED often sat outside or walked outside during the time that Dean and Cas went to get pie, it was a nice part of the day, although the days were already beginning to shorten, and soon it looked as though there wouldn’t be any sun left to soak up past five.

It was a quarter to six when YED and John went back inside. YED went to get his phone from his jacket pocket only to find that his jacket wasn’t there. He was sure he had left it on the stool, but he checked everywhere else he could think of for where he could have left it. Still he came up nought. Just then he heard the doors of the impala slam as Cas and Dean returned. As soon as they entered the room, YED jumped on Dean – not literally, but it had a similar effect.

“What have you done with my jacket!?” he demanded.

“What? I haven’t seen your jacket! I’ve been out with Cas! We left just after you went out for you girly little walk or whatever it is you get up to that I don’t ever want to hear about in the afternoons.” Dean retorted pushing past him and stepping further into the room.

“Liar!!!” YED accused.

“I am _not_ a liar!” Dean argued.

YED was not buying it. He wouldn’t believe any of what he said until he had his jacket back.

“Listen, kiddo, my reputation and integrity are at stake here, if I don’t get that jacket back, then I… well let’s just say it’s not good.” He was very angry.

Luther and Sam looked on in amazement whilst Matt and Michael sat in the corner giggling and typing away frantically. Jo was in the booth where they normally played cards, but Ash was passed out his head on the cards. John stood back not wanting to get involved in any of this. Cas, it seemed, shared this feeling, and hung back.

“I never touched your jacket I’m telling you man! Look ask Cas if you don’t believe me!”

“You think _I’d_ trust _his_ kind? You think _I’d_ trust an _angel?_ ” YED scoffed, “Don’t be a fool Dean. I’m far too clever for that! I _know_ it was you; you’ve hated the fact that I’m with your father, and you haven’t exactly made any sort of effort to hide your feelings. You’ve been waiting for the right moment to strike this whole time! Don’t think I can’t see right through you Dean Winchester, honey.”

“What so you think that just because I dislike the fact that you’re now screwing my Dad that I’d take your jacket? Now I’ll admit it does sound like me – getting revenge and all that – but don’t you think that just maybe I’d realise that stealing your jacket is petty and in no way a suitable form of revenge?” Dean replied extremely pissed off.

“Oh, no no! I know what you’re like, and I know it was you. All I’m thinking now is… well… I can’t decide whether you should live or die-”

“I CAN’T DECIDE WHETHER YOU SHOULD LIVE OR DIEEEE!! OH! YOU’LL PROBABLY GO TO HEAVEN, _PLEASE_ DON’T HANG YOUR HEAD AND CRYYYYYY!!! NO WONDER WHY! MY HEART FEELS _DEAD INSIDE_ IT’S COLD AND HARD AND _PETRIFIIIEEEEEEED!!!”_  Meg shout-sang as she burst into the room. She as she was singing she climbed up onto a table. The crew just looked at her in bewilderment.

“What?” she asked as if she had just done the most normal thing of normal things, “You were singing Scissor Sisters right?”

“No we weren’t I was _genuinely_ trying to decide whether Dean should live or die, _actually_.” YED snarled at her angrily.

“Oh right,” she said jumping down off the table – quite an impressive feat considering she was wearing heeled boots – and sitting on it instead, “Why?”

“Because he stole his leather jacket.” Jo said helpfully.

“But, he didn’t do it.” Meg said confused, and trying not very hard at all not to find this hilarious.

“ _Thank you!”_ Dean said.

“Well if it wasn’t him then who was it?!” YED demanded accusingly.

“Well before you go accusing me, it wasn’t. We can rule out Cas – since he’s an angel – John because you were with him. I’m pretty sure that Bug Dude and what’s-his-face over there in the corner were far too engrossed in their blogs to bother pulling pranks or revenge or whatever. That leaves Ash, Emily, Lady Sass, Ellen and lover boys over there. _Now_ I don’t think it at all likely that Ellen _or_ Missouri would ‘come down to this level’ – nor is Emily for that matter. Ash has been passed out for, what, an hour now?” Jo nodded in confirmation, “So it was probably not him. So we must draw the conclusion that it was lover boy one or lover boy two. Any guesses as to whom?”

“I notice you left Jo off that list completely.” Sam muttered, knowing full well that there was only one logical explanation for all of this.

“Oi! Shut up!” Jo said, pretty miffed that Sam had pointed this out.

“Yes well about that…” Meg began, “well you see the thing is umm…”

“I was playing on those old arcade games in the back room for a fair while.” Jo interjected, saving Meg from a very awkward explanation – she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the fact that she had indeed spent the time with Meg at Ruby’s.

Sam shifted uncomfortably next to Luther whose arm was draped around him possessively. He was very aware that every eye in the room was focussed on them. _Oh joy_ he thought.  He glanced up at Luther with a knowing look. He was not impressed.

“Well I’m guessing it wasn’t you Sammy,” YED huffed, “I bet on the wrong horse.”

“My question is, why did you do it?” Meg asked genuinely confused.

“Isn’t it obvious,” he snarled at Meg, “I was hoping he would blame you. I’m tired of you stealing my fucking whiskey all the time. It’s not like you even care all that much; you only do it to piss me off. I mean we’re in a _bar_ for chrissake!”

“Jerk.” Meg spat before leaving the room. She had had enough of his shit; he was always complaining about her drinking the whiskey that was so innocently left lying around. Of course he argued that falling asleep with it in your hand didn’t count as lying around. But that was only a matter of opinion. He wasn’t using it, unless he used it like a Teddy bear, or a comfort blanket, which she highly doubted.

Back in the bar YED was still glaring at Luther.

“I should flay you alive.” He snapped.

“Oh _calm down_ ” Luther huffed in reply, “It’s in her room and I didn’t even screw with your stuff! God get off my case!”

“I’ll _get off your case_ when you learn not to mess with my stuff!”

Luther was standing now and he towered over YED. They stared each other down. Eventually Luther broke away from the petty staring contest and took Sam's hand and tugged him out of the bar. He was fuming and extremely frustrated. Fucking hell, Meg had shown him up again! Why did she hate him so much in particular? It wasn’t strictly speaking hate, but it served a similar purpose, so it made little difference what you labelled it.


	8. Since When Do You Like Birthday Presents?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assume that if you are reading this you will have come to terms with what has sort of turned into my motto when writing it: FUCK LOGIC AND EVERYTHING IT STANDS FOR  
> so I hope that you will forgive me for doing what you are about to read.  
> I have decided to put Sam's birthday in October.  
> Why? I hear you ask? Because reasons.  
> (Well actually I just had a really good idea for something to write about Sam's birthday and cba to wait until I'd written up to may jfc that would have taken fucking ages!)

Matt sat alone in the back room. It was about three in the morning and everyone else was asleep as far as he was aware – even Luther, who had started to adopt more a human sleeping pattern. He was on his laptop absent mindedly scrolling through his dash, although it was pretty dead; it was that strange limbo between the Americans going to sleep and the Aussies logging on. Michael had gone to bed hours ago leaving him the last one awake. Again. Not that he particularly minded – in fact he quite liked being the only one awake most of the time – but just then he felt like he wanted a bit of company for a change.

Matt flicked windows back to the latest fic he had been writing – a Marvelle fic –and began to write. It was about them going to a party, Meg getting Jo very drunk and them ending up making out all night. He was just getting to the part where Meg had convinced Jo to come to the part and let her drive, when his laptop died. As in blue screen of death, holy shit my life is over, kind of died.

“Fuck.” Matt cursed, “fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

He stopped shouting abruptly when he remembered that everyone else was asleep. Luther would probably be getting up soon to hunt – although strictly speaking he wasn’t supposed to know this; everyone else apart from Sam thought he was getting blood from blood banks they keep for hospitals – but he was more concerned about disturbing YED; he was very protective of his beauty sleep.

Matt stared blankly at his computer screen as it blinked bluely at him before turning off with a final sounding plink. He sighed, well it was more of a huff, and double face palmed violently. He hadn’t even saved his fic! He tried pressing the power button a few times but nothing happened.

“Fuck!” he swore again.

There was a soft knock at the door, followed by a blonde head. Emily. His stomach instantly felt as though it was being twisted in a million different directions at the sight of her sheepish smile. If his laptop hadn’t just completely died on him he would have grinned like a fucking idiot. As it was the corners of his mouth twitched up a little.

“Er, hi?” she said tentatively, “I heard a lot of swearing, are you alright?”

“Yeah, no.” he said helpfully, “my laptop just died on me, in a probably permanent sort of way, and I hadn’t even saved the, uh, thing I was working on.”

“Oh. Shit.” She said as she came in and leant against the door as she closed it. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” He tried to laugh, but he had been _really_ proud of that fic.

Matt shifted over in the not-quite-sofa-not-quite-armchair seat thing he’d claimed as his own, making room for Emily. She hesitated but accepted; the woolly blanket looked very tempting to her bare legs (wearing shorts had seemed like a good idea at the time!). She folded her her feet up and wrapped the blanket around her, resting her chin on her knees.

Matt looked at her as if she was some sort of alien.

“What?” she asked.

“How do you Eve _do_ that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“ _Fold!_ I mean you’re like, a… a... foldy thing… a deck chair!”

“What? You mean you can’t? It’s so _easy!_ ”

“Speak for yourself!” Matt said dumping his used-to-be laptop on the floor.

“Oh come on! You’re pulling my leg!”

“Fine, I’ll show you!” Matt tried to tuck his legs into his body but his feet kept slipping off the not-quite-sofa.

“It’s just the sofa! Look, try it on the floor!”

He tried this… and failed.

“I _told_ you!” he said.

“Dude, do you even fold?” and they both fell about laughing.

Matt noticed how Emily’s hair was falling across her face, he hesitated as he pushed it back behind her ear. She blushed and looked down. Matt withdrew his hand quickly fearing he’d made a dreadful mistake, but she grabbed it and held it tight in her own. A second later she dropped it, as if feeling the same thing he had.

“I’m sorry, I-” Matt started.

Matt shut his eyes in utter astonishment as Emily kissed him. It took him a moment to respond but when he did, Emily was almost as surprised as he had been, almost.

“Sorry,” she started.

“You know I think we should not do this, I mean the apologising thing, we’ll never get anything done if we apologise after everything we ever do or say ever.” He added the last bit hastily so she wouldn’t think he was rejecting her.

Emily looked down into her lap, her face a violent shade of magenta, and laughed shakily.

“Let’s not say anything about this to the others, not just yet.”

Matt nodded in agreement; he didn’t think he could take the teasing from Meg, or Dean. It really wasn’t his idea of a good thing.

***

“So, apparently it’s your birthday next week,” Luther said into Sam's hair as they were curled up in bed – he was the big spoon. He was always the big spoon; he liked it when Sam was wrapped in his arms so.

“Mmhmm,” Sam mumbled sleepily.

“So, I was thinking, birthday presents?” Luther asked.

“Uh, nothing. I don’t need, anything I guess.”

“Birthday presents aren’t about needing things, they’re about wanting things.” Luther said poking Sam gently in the ribs making him giggle.

He turned over in Luther’s arms so they were face to face.

“I, uh, well, I guess, umm… I don’t know, there isn’t really anything I want particularly.” Sam said quietly, modestly.

“Sure there is.” Luther said, trying to worm an answer out of him.

“Seriously, I don’t want anything, I mean I just got a new phone, so I’m all set really.”

“Hmm.” Luther said thoughtfully, “And your laptop gets like signal everywhere which is completely inexplicable, but I guess some sort of other supernatural being is to blame for that?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Nah, that was aliens.”

“A likely story.” Luther muttered. “I’ve got it!”

“What?”

“Your birthday present!” Luther said excitedly, “I know exactly what I’m getting you!”

“Yeah?”

Luther ignored him, instead electing to swing his legs out of bed and yank on his jeans.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked as Luther made for the door, black leather jacket in hand.

“Out. I’ll be back soon,” and with that he was gone, and Sam was left sitting up in bed utterly confused.

***

“Ok, got it.” Luther said into his phone as he walked into the bar, he hung up after the person on the other end had finished speaking.

In the corner were Matt and Emily – no Michael, huh – giggling about something on Emily's laptop. At bar itself Dean sat next to Sam, they were talking to Ellen who was behind it, wiping it down. He sat next to Sam and nodded at Ellen, who rolled her eyes and passed him a bottle of whiskey.

“So, who was that on the phone?” Sam asked.

“Just some guy I was talking to about a certain someone’s birthday present.”

Sam's ears turned pink and he took a swig of his beer.

“Birthday present?” Dean asked incredulously, “Since when do you like birthday presents Sam?”

“I don’t” he said, but he looked up at Luther to make sure he hadn’t offended him. His expression was unreadable, so Sam rested his hand on Luther’s knee.

They could hear Meg arriving from a mile off; her music – there was some debate over whether or not you could call it that but – blared out of the car at full volume, her windows down, as she sped at 100mph into the drive. A moment later and the music shut off and Meg sauntered into the bar with Starbucks in one hand and… Jo’s hand in her other!

As if realising this at the same time as Sam, Jo tried to drop Meg’s… and failed.

“Don’t be a pussy.” Meg said, “You seemed perfectly capable of this last night at the party.”

They walked in and were followed by Ruby.

“Hi Sam,” she began with a grin that quickly faded when she saw his hand on the vampire’s knee.

“Er, hi Ruby, umm, have you met Luther?” he coughed awkwardly, “He’s my umm”

Luther rolled his eyes before finishing with “boyfriend” for him. Honestly, Sam was a massive baby when it came to telling people.

“Oh, right.” Ruby said, glaring at Meg, when Sam looked away.

“So, uh, what brings you this way?” Dean asked irritated.

“Meg demon party, got bored, Meg invited me back here with Jo. Not that it’s any of your business. Meg, aren’t you gonna introduce me to the others?”

“Everyone this is Ruby, Ruby this is everyone. Well almost.” Meg said.


	9. Birthday Part 1: Presents

_October 3 rd_ _some year at some point in time in the history of the universe I guess but like who really knows anyway its not as if there was any chronological time line I had in mind at all you know, like idk maybe this is after season 3 I dunno but yeah it’s a time._

Sam rocked back in the rickety wooden chair, his head stretched back in his hands, waiting for Luther to get back. He glanced up at the clock to check the time, 3am. Hmm, he thought, that’s strange Luther was normally back by now… he stood up and walked to the window. He looked up and down the street; nothing. Maybe Luther had just got side tracked? He doubted it; Luther was never normally any more than half an hour late…

He turned around and was surprised to see Luther lying on their bed. He smiled. Luther stood up and walked over to Sam, completely invading his personal space. He put his finger under Sam’s chin and lifted it up, bringing their lips together. He kissed him gently before Sam pulled away.

“What took you so long?” he asked concernedly.

“I was… getting… something…” Luther said, a smile growing.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” Luther went back to the bed where his rucksack was sat on the floor. He dug into the bag and a moment later withdrew his hand holding a car key.

“You didn’t…” Sam started. Luther nodded. “You did?” Sam grinned.

“Happy Birthday.” Luther said and went back to kissing him.

Sam kissed him back, thinking that this was probably one of his best birthdays so far. For the first time in as many years he wasn’t travelling, he wasn’t rowing with Dean or his Dad, and he even got a birthday present. Two birthday presents. It had been a long time since he had a significant other.

Luther began undoing the buttons of Sam’s plaid top, and Sam, taking his lead, began to undress Luther. Luther took the reins, as usual, and moved Sam back onto the bed. Luther fell onto Sam and kissed him passionately. Before long they were engaged in affairs Dean would have been jealous of.

They lay in bed; Sam nestled comfortably in Luther’s possessive arms.

“I… I love you.” Luther whispered as the sun rose. He said it almost, was it really, timidly?

Sam was taken aback; it was a very un-Luther thing to say. As soon as he heard the words he knew he returned the feeling. He hadn’t really thought about it at all before, not really, but he felt it was right, he just did.

Luther started to pull away roughly, sensing Sam's thoughtfulness, mistaking it for hesitation. Sam thought quickly, trying to remedy the situation. He reached his fingers into Luther’s hair and pulled him into a kiss. Luther was stunned into stillness for the briefest of moments. When the kiss ended, Sam rested his hand on Luther’s cheek and looked deep into Luther’s eyes, drinking them in.

“I love you too.”

Luther breathed a shaky sigh of relief. He had been utterly convinced that Sam's hesitation was rejection.

Sam brushed a hint of a kiss along Luther’s lips, enticing him in, and Luther, being Luther, kissed him ferociously, blowing away any doubt in his mind.

***

The day had fully dawned when they finally broke apart; Sam insisting that they go and try out his new car. He had never admitted to Dean, or John, that he wanted his own car; he couldn’t take all the questions. Luther’s truck had mysteriously broken a few weeks after the whole jacket incident with YED, and neither John, nor Dean had been able to fix it. Sam had a sneaking suspicion that they were both lying, but that still left the fact that they were the only couple without a set of wheels. Not any more, Sam thought with glee.

They checked out of the motel room and made their way to the car - to _Sam's_ _new_ car. Luther passed him the keys and sat on the bonnet of a blue 1966 ford mustang, the roof down. Sam gawped. It was the car he had always wanted ever since he’d been a kid. Yes there was a little rust here and there, but to him there was no more beautiful car than this one. Ever.

He opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat reverently. Luther swung his feet over the bonnet to join him in the passenger seat.

“It’s not perfect, but it runs just fine.” Luther said apologetically.

Sam turned on the ignition and grinned. He looked at Luther and said, “It’s perfect.”

Luther smiled and kissed him.

Luther turned to change the music but a look from Sam stopped him.

“What?” he asked confused.

“House rules, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his pie hole.” Sam said then cracked up.

Luther looked at him as if to say _really? REALLY?_

“Sorry, that’s what Dean always says to me. Sorry no you can choose the music really, its fine.”

 “Happy Birthday.” Luther said as he rolled his eyes and slid in a CD.

Sam's favourite song started playing.

“Did you…?” Luther nodded to Sam's half formed question; it was a playlist of all his favourite road trip music.

Sam smiled and kissed his fucking awesome boyfriend again before he pulled out of the parking lot and drove back to the roadhouse. It was a little distracting having Luther playing with his hair all the way but he not even that could distract him from the fact that he had finally got his own car, _this_ car. And Luther had given it to him. It was second hand but it was beautiful, or at least Sam thought so.

They pulled into the drive outside the roadhouse and as soon as Sam took the keys out of the ignition Luther slid along the bench seat and began to kiss his neck.

“Luther, c’mon,” Sam said laughing, tipping his head back, “We literally got no sleep last night, and, well, _I_ certainly wasn’t planning on sleeping much tonight either.”

Luther laughed. And pressed his forehead into Sam's shoulder before sitting back and took his face in his left hand and stroked his thumb along his cheek.

“Ok, and don’t worry, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, _that_ I can promise you.”

This almost had Sam reconsidering, but just then Dean walked out of the roadhouse and up to the car.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded.

“It’s a car.” Luther said sarcastically.

“Yeah, thanks I can see that,” Dean retorted before turning to Sam, “I mean, how come you’ve got a car?”

“Birthday present. From me.” Luther replied.

“Was I talking to you?” Dean demanded.

“No, but I answered.”

“Guys, just chill ok? Anyway it’s my birthday, can you at least pretend to get along?” Sam said, disgruntled by their constant animosity.

Dean huffed but at least he stopped berating Luther for you know existing.

“Yeah so as I was gonna say, happy birthday Sammy” Dean said, a genuine smile on his face.

“Thanks Dean.”

“So are you gonna come inside or what?” Dean said.

They got out of the car and walked back into the road house, Luther taking Sam's hand in his own. They looked at each other and smiled. Sam was pretty happy with this vampire, a thought that would have made him laugh a few years ago.

_Part two coming soon in the next chapter…_


	10. Birthday Part 2: Party

_Part two of “Birthday”…_

“Happy Birthday!” the Crew chorused as Sam stepped into the bar followed by Dean and Luther.

Sam blushed. “You guys! Who’s responsible for this?” he looked accusingly at Luther, but he just shook his head and nodded behind him where Dean was standing uncomfortably. “Dean?”

Dean looked up at Sam and shrugged, “It’s your birthday, we’re already at a bar…”

It was then that Sam noticed the decorations.

“I’m guessing Meg was in charge of decorations?” he said looking around at the pink my little pony ‘birthday girl’ banner and the matching paper plates and cups, the bright pink streamers and balloons.

“Yes I was!” Meg said with a very smug grin on her face.

Sam was too happy to be annoyed; instead he joined them at the big table they had made by shoving together several of the smaller tables.

He sat next to Luther and Matt at one end of the table, and only just managed to worm his way out of wearing the ridiculous my little pony party hat that Meg tried to shove onto his head. He looked around at the table and noticed that the only food was pie, and alcohol. He looked up at Dean and raised his eyebrows; he only shrugged, and Sam shook his head – there was just no explanation sometimes.

“So I put Meg in charge of entertainment” Dean said, very unapologetically.

“You didn’t.” Sam said incredulous, he rolled his eyes when Dean nodded with a playful look of evil in his eyes.

“HELLs to the YEEAHH!!” Meg cried and started detailing the drinking game she had devised, it was very complicated.

***

They were all very drunk – apart from Michael; Ellen hadn’t allowed it, and for good reason he was fifteen – and it seemed as if only Dean had eaten the pie. That wasn’t a problem; he didn’t need any help devouring them.

“Sooo, do I get to suggest a game ever?” YED asked winking at Sam.

“I gueeesss.” Meg said reluctantly.

“Strip poker.” He said simply.

“Umm, no” Sam said as Luther, Dean, and Meg said “Awesome.”

“That is a brilliant idea, my good father!” Meg said.

“Well if you’re all gonna do this I’m going for a walk.” John said getting up from the table.

“Babe,” YED said looking slightly disheartened that his guy was leaving just as things were about to get interesting.

John ignored him and left. YED sighed and turned back to the table.

“Well I’m not playing” Ellen said, “and neither is Michael.”

Michael was secretly relieved by this.

Missouri, Ellen, and Michael got up and left for the back room – or at least Missouri and Ellen did, Michael went to his room to finish up his latest marvelle fic.

That left Meg, Jo, Sam, Luther, Dean, Bug Dude, Pyro Girl, and YED to play – Castiel was away on angel business and Ruby hadn’t been seen all day.

As they played it started to become clear that YED had had one particular goal in mind. Dean. It also came to Sam's attention that Luther was making no effort whatsoever not to lose, and Sam knew he was ace at poker. And to be fair, he was absolutely shit at poker. This had the effect of him and Luther being the most naked of them all, followed closely by Meg, and then Dean.  Sam was again grateful for the fact that they wore layers; it made the situation a hell of a lot less awkward.

Soon enough, Luther had lost the game, and was standing naked on the table racing Dean to down a pint. The others were giggling ridiculously, and Bug Dude was secretly planning the next chapter of his fic; this was too good an opportunity to waste. Luther, of course beat Dean and had downed his pint almost twice as fast, resulting in Dean being forced to take yet another drink. Sam had luckily managed to avoid too much drinking – and had even managed to keep most of his clothes on. Actually the only people who were really drinking were Meg, Jo, and Dean. Alcohol didn’t have the same effect on Luther as it had on the rest of them, it must have been the vampire thing, Sam thought.

***

“Did you have fun?” Luther asked as he and Sam sat in the back yard on a bench drinking yet more whiskey – now fully clothed again – and watching the sun sink beyond the horizon.

“Yeah, you know, that was the first birthday party I’ve ever really had.” He said.

Luther didn’t respond, he only took a swig of his drink and looked out at the shabby garden. After a moment he looked at Sam with an unreadable expression.

“Say, when’s _your_ birthday?” Sam asked.

“I… I don’t remember.” Luther admitted.

“You what?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Well I’ve been around a very long time Sam. I know I’m at least a hundred and seventy, a hundred and seventy five? But after I was… changed, I sort of stopped celebrating; it’s not really very high on a vampire’s to do list.” Luther explained.

“Then why did you make such a big fuss about getting me a birthday present?” Sam asked mildly confused.

“I thought it might be important to you, even if you wouldn’t say anything. I was right, wasn’t I?” Luther said with a grin.

“Yeah,” Sam confessed, “yeah, thanks again, by the way.”

Luther pulled Sam closer to him, enveloping Sam in his arm desirously. Sam laughed and took Luther’s face in both his hands pressing a firm kiss on his forehead. When he drew back he saw the slightly smug and intensely happy grin spreading across his face.

Luther picked up Sam's wrist and brought it to his face and inhaled deeply. Sam's blood pumping thick and wet through his veins was smelt delicious as ever. Sam sat very still; to distract Luther right now would have been very foolish. When Luther looked back at Sam he tried and failed to hide a smirk. He lowered Sam's wrist so they were holding hands in his lap.

“Don’t worry I’ve had my fix this week.” A wicked grin flashed across his face, and Sam shrugged it off – as long as he was getting blood from blood banks he was cool, as long as it was from blood banks that was. “But I won’t deny it; you do smell good.”

“Umm thanks, I guess.” Sam said, unsure of the appropriate response to your vampire boyfriend telling you he thinks you smell like a good snack.

“You know…,” Sam said suggestively, “it’s still my birthday.”

Luther didn’t need him to spell it out for him to get the hint. He leaned over and began to kiss him.

They had been making out for a few minutes when Ruby walked round the corner. She stopped moving abruptly when she saw the couple making out on the bench. It took Sam a moment to realise that they weren’t alone anymore. He pulled away from Luther – who continued to kiss his neck – and looked over his shoulder. When he saw it was Ruby he straightened up, causing Luther to look round.

“Oh, it’s you.” Luther said with disdain.

“Well nice to you too.” She replied sarcastically.

“Did you want anything or were you just gonna stand there and watch us?” Luther snarled t her.

“Luther…” Sam muttered imploringly.

Luther ignored him and continued to glare at Ruby.

“Happy birthday Sammy.” Ruby spat before turning on her heel and leaving.

“I thought _I_ was the only non-Winchester allowed to call you Sammy?” Luther asked angrily, disguising his hurt.

“Ruby’s sort of an old friend.” Sam explained.

“Old friend as in an ex?”  Luther demanded.

“Uh, yeah, sort of.” Sam said, sheepishly.

“Right.” Luther said, “Well, who’s better?”  His voice was seductive again, and Sam hoped he hadn’t offended him that much.

“Do you really think that I’m gonna answer that?” Sam chuckled – oblivious to Luther’s resentment of the situation – he stood up and walked back inside the roadhouse, leaving Luther sitting on the bench, watching him walk away.


	11. Three AM, Lucky Charms, and The 'Stang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sam.

_October 8 th a few days after Sam's birthday, another random time in the history of the universe maybe, but who’s to say it’s this universe anyway like this is a crack AU of a fictional universe so who knows how time runs where they are. Anyway everyone thinks that time is a linear thing but in fact it’s a big ball of wibbly-wobbly-timey-whimey stuff._

Sam woke up to find Luther gone. He looked around their darkened room and saw Luther’s jacket was missing also. _Shit,_ Sam thought. This was couldn’t be good. If his jacket was gone, Luther wasn’t going to be back any time soon, and Sam couldn’t think of any reason Luther would have to get up and leave in the middle of the night. He swung his legs out of bed and slipped on his clothes. He crept down the stairs and into the bar, careful not to disturb anyone else. The bar was empty but he could see a light coming from the back room.

He was hopeful when he poked his head through the door. The room wasn’t empty, but Luther wasn’t one of its occupants. In fact, Sam was surprised to find Matt and Emily giggling over something. He slid the door shut quickly to avoid detection, and stepped back into the bar.

He wracked his brains trying to fathom out what reason Luther might possibly have for just running off in the middle of the night. It took a moment or two for it to click; Luther probably wasn’t getting blood from blood banks.

Sam sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He sat down on the edge of a table and let the thought sink in. The more he thought about it the more stupid he felt for not having realised this sooner; Luther wasn’t exactly the subtlest of men.

A moment later Sam knocked sheepishly on the door to the back room and poked his head through the door once again. He saw Bug Dude plaiting Emily’s hair as she sat folded on the floor in front of the love seat on which Matt was sitting. Sam coughed awkwardly when they didn’t look up at him.

“Er, hi,” Sam said quietly, “Umm, its 3am? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Emily asked in return.

“Yeah, well, Luther kinda disappeared.” Sam admitted, “You don’t happen to know where he’s gone do you?”

Bug Dude and Emily looked at each other guiltily.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Well, actually, yes, we do.” Bug Dude said.

“So?”

“Do you really not know, or are you just wanting to hear it come from somewhere else?” Emily said, insightfully.

Sam did that mouth twitchy thing it does when he’s thinking, and his eyes flitted.

“I didn’t think so.” Emily said.

“Have you any idea where he might be? I guess we all know what he’s doing there, wherever there is.” Sam felt hurt but he tried not to let it show in his voice.

“Sorry, but we don’t exactly stalk him; he just hear him go out once or twice a week.” Matt explained.

“Oh, right. Speaking of, why _are_ you up at this time anyway?” Sam asked, going and sitting on the sofa.

“Well it used to be me and Michael up, but he has slightly more human sleeping habits. But anyway yeah, we were umm you know just internet-ing.” Matt explained, sort of.

“Internet. Right.” Sam said.

“So umm are you just gonna sit there, or …. What?” Emily said.

“Oh right sorry.” Sam said awkwardly, “See ya.”

He got up and left the room. He thought for a second, before sighing and going back up to bed, hoping he would manage to get some sleep before tomorrow - which he didn’t.

***

“You’re up early.” Ellen said as she walked into the bar to find Sam sitting in one of the booths at the bar on his laptop.

“Hmm?” Sam said looking up from his laptop. “Oh, morning. Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” Sam explained.

“Luther not one for mornings eh?”

“Er, no.” Sam replied awkwardly, debating whether or not he ought to tell her what he had discovered last night. He was just coming to the conclusion that he would when ruby walked into the bar… in her underwear.

“Hello Sammy.” She said as she went behind the bar and getting a bowl of Froot Loops. “Oh, g’morning Ellen.” She added when she saw Ellen unstacking the dishwasher. In the time they had been there the bar had sort of become the kitchen.

“G’mornin’ Ruby” Ellen said from somewhere behind the counter top.

“Er, hi Ruby.” Sam said looking back at his laptop very deliberately.

“Want some cereal?” Ruby asked with a yawn.

“Mmh, yeah, got any lucky charms left?”

“Nah, Dean's got his eye on those, you know how he gets. Froot Loops?” she offered.

Sam nodded and Ruby bought over the box and milk, bowls and spoons. They ate their breakfast in silence, Sam researched something on his laptop and Ruby read the back of the cereal box for the millionth time. Before long they were joined by Dean and not long after that John as well. Neither YED, Meg, nor Jo had been seen yet. Which was usual. Meg and Jo usually didn’t get back until very late after a party so they tended to sleep in, or even not return from the party until morning, and always with a hangover. YED however, had probably been up since forever and was just reading some chick lit in his and John’s room.

Once upon a time, Dean would have been taken aback at the sight of Ruby sitting in her underwear eating Froot Loops, but now he was used to it. That and the fact that when she had caught him eyeing her up from across the room, she nearly flattened him. He found his Lucky Charms and switched the radio on before he joined Sam and Ruby at the table. _Heat of the Moment_ started playing and Sam rolled his eyes; Dean was obsessed with this radio station that played the same songs every morning, it was really starting to piss him off, although he didn’t say anything.

Ellen continued to unstack the dishwasher and wipe clean the surfaces etc. until there wasn’t a single boring chore left for her to do. At which point she picked up a newspaper and started reading.

Probably looking out for any signs of the Supernatural, Sam thought to himself as he caught a glimpse of her in his periphery. It was funny; there hadn’t really been much in the way of the supernatural of late, only a few low level demons and a pair of rogue pagan gods. If Sam was being honest with himself he had to admit it had been a nice change from hunting all the time. Sure there was still a lot of nasty stuff out there, but there were still a load of other hunters out there too; it wasn’t as if it was all down to them, was it? For once it seemed as though the others were in agreement with him. It also helped that most of them were sleeping with one supernatural being or another.

This thought made Sam sigh; Luther still hadn’t turned up. He’d pretty much been awake all night long, waiting for him to return but Luther was still AWOL. He finished his cereal and dumped his bowl into the sink before grabbing a disposable cup and filling it with coffee – that was one thing Sam loved about living in a bar, useful shit like that – and grabbed his keys from the side, his laptop wedged under his arm that wasn’t holding the coffee.

“I’m going for a drive I’ll be back late.” He called over his shoulder before walking out of the door without looking back.

He dropped his laptop into the passenger seat and started the ignition. He pulled out onto the road and started driving around aimlessly. Although he was still miffed at Luther, he couldn’t forget that the car was awesome. The engine purred as he cruised along the highway, the CD Luther had burnt him playing quietly in the background.

He didn’t return to the road house until late that night, his coffee from the morning untouched in the drinks holder. When he entered the bar Dean looked up from the game of cards he had been playing with Meg, Jo, YED and Ash. Sam waved at him but dashed up the stairs swiftly to avoid awkward conversation about where he’d been all day.

He opened the door of his room and slung his jacket over the arm of the chair – as usual – and saw that Luther’s jacket was hung there also. He looked up and found Luther lying on the bed reading some sci-fi book. When he heard the door click shut Luther looked up from his book and over at Sam.

“Where’ve you been?” Luther asked Sam.

“You can talk.” Sam muttered.

“Really? I get back and Dean says you’ve gone out for a drive, and then you don’t return until, what? Half eleven?” he checked the clock, “Quarter past, same thing.”

“I wake up at three this morning and find you gone, and…” Sam said, but decided against saying anything about knowing Luther's night tome activities, for reasons unbeknownst to him. “…and have no idea where you are or whatever.”

“Oh. Well, I…” Luther started, before Sam cut over him saying,

“Look, it doesn’t matter now. Just, don’t leave like that again. It’s kinda creepier than the whole tying me up thing.”

Luther returned to his book as if Sam had simply said _hi_ and Sam kicked off his shoes and joined him in reading on the bed. Sam was reading _Cryptonomicon_ on Luther’s suggestion – and was finding it surprisingly good – in an effort not to picture Luther out last night, killing innocent people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER!!! The phrase "once upon a time" was used by Charles Dickens in his "A Child's History of England" (published in the year 1852). I have taken the liberty of using it, in the hope that Dickens doesn't try to sue me. I promise that, should I receive notification from one Mr. Charles Dickens, I shall remove this phrase from this work. However, until such date, I am taking the liberty to use the phrase in this work.


	12. Paranormal Activity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Crew watches a "horror" movie, then Meg shows them how it's done...

“Hey, guys, do any of you want to watch _Paranormal_ _Activity_?” Jo asked to the room in general, “I mean it’ll be a laugh; it’s one of the shitiest excuses for a ‘scary’ movie ever.”

“Absolutely!” Meg said, jumping at the idea. A few others were nodding their heads in agreement, although none of them really looked up from what they were doing.

Later that night Jo’s simple idea of watching a shitty movie turned into an elaborate movie night, including “borrowing” a projector and screen, buying all the junk food they could, including; burgers, fries, chocolate, marshmallows, chocolate marshmallows, crisps, more chocolate, popcorn, pizza, Chinese food, and, of course, pie.

Sam set up the projector and screen while the others moved the sofas out of the back room and into the main bar; there wasn’t really enough space in the back room for it to be plausible to turn it into a home cinema. They had put all the food out on the coffee tables and soon enough they were all crowded into the mismatched sofas and arm chairs. Sam hit play and he wedged himself between Ruby and Luther, quite a tight fit, but Luther made it easier by putting an arm around him and pulling him in closer. Sam nestled into his arms comfortably so he didn’t see Ruby and Luther exchange looks of pure hatred.

YED shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but it was only noticed by John, who mistook it for being cramped in the sofa, so he budged over.

As the film began to play they slowly made their way through the enormous pile of food set out before them. Meg nearly spat out her “coke” when the so called “demon” did its “scaring” at the end of the movie.

“Hey! Maybe that demon had been having a shit day!” YED protested when Meg was laughing so hard she could no longer breathe.

“Why are you getting so defensive? It’s not as if I’m insulting _you!_ ” Meg said through her hysterics. YED made no response. “Oh my god it’s not you is it? Please, please, _please_ don’t tell me that was you!” YED didn’t answer. “Oh. My. _God!!!_ You are the most useless demon _ever!_ I cannot _believe_ I am related to you!!! Ugh! This is even more embarrassing than the time you decided to burn my house down for my three hundred and sixteenth birthday!” Meg wailed.

Jo couldn’t stop laughing at this; she couldn’t believe that YED was actually _this_ demon! And to think, she had thought he could have been scary once! The others looked on in amusement as Meg and YED argued over how to do a proper haunting etc.

Meanwhile Luther had managed to distract Sam for long enough that he had succeeded in persuading Sam to make out with him on the sofa. A sharp little cough from behind him caused Sam to break away from Luther and look round. When he did saw Ruby sitting there looking crestfallen. Luther tried to entice Sam back into making out but Sam refused whispering to him:

“No, Luther, it’s not fair. We broke up only eight months ago.”

“Eight months is almost a year Sam.” Luther said irritated.

“Yeah, but, we were kinda close.”

“So what?”

“What do you mean so what? I don’t want to hurt her any more than I already have, ok?” Sam turned away from Luther to watch Meg and YED, oblivious to the disdainful glare he threw at Ruby.

“ _COME ON!!!_ THAT IS NOT HOW YOU SCARE SOMEONE IN YOUR FREETIME!!” Meg yelled at YED, still only barely containing her laughter, “Look _this_ is how you scare someone – one sec; I’ll just go get it.” Meg dashed up the stairs and back down again carrying a box set.

“What’s that?” YED asked.

“This,” Meg said, placing it down in front of them, “is the film of my gap year.”

“Meg, demons don’t take gap years.” Ruby interjected.

“Shut up. I took a gap year, get over it.” Meg said.

“Is this suitable for Michael to be watching?” Ellen asked.

“Err, yeah, sure, why not.” Meg said as she put the first disc into the player and the image of a church came up on the screen.

“Oh _calm down_ Ellen!” Michael said, “I’m sort of a hunter, I think I can deal with a bit of- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”  The film started playing and some of the most gruesome and terrifying scenes any of them had seen on a screen before began to be depicted.

“Michael,” Ellen began.

“I am _outta here!”_ Michael cut over her and scarpered to his room as fast as anything.

“Pussy,” Meg muttered.

At one point Meg’s Gap Year got so scary that even _Ruby_ was terrified. She buried her face in Sam's shoulder, and after a moment Sam drew her into a hug; he couldn’t blame her, the film was terrifying. Sam himself was trying to look manly in front of Luther so he was trying not to turn away from the screen too much. This, of course, meant that he yet again missed the looks coming from Luther.

Luther hated with every fibre in his bones the fact that Ruby was curled up in Sam's arms. He hated even more that Sam seemed to be a) oblivious to the fact that it was hurting Luther, and that b) Sam had accepted Ruby into his arms without a moment’s hesitation; she was his _ex_ for chrissakle!

The screen faded to black and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“So what did you think of January?” Meg asked.

“January? _January?_ You did all that in _one month?”_ Bug Dude asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“Err, no.” BD said, aborting quickly.

Sam delicately extracted himself from holding Ruby and yawned; he was tired and ready for bed. He looked back at Luther and asked him if he would be joining him in bed then or if he was gonna stay up later with the others. Luther took a moment to consider, but then he nodded and stood up and put an arm around Sam's waist, grabbing his arse deliberately so Ruby could see.  Sam tried – and failed – not to giggle as they made their way upstairs to their room, very ready for bed.

In the bedroom Sam brushed his teeth as Luther lay in bed in his underwear reading _Consider Phlebas_.

“You don’t have to be jealous you know.” Sam garbled through his mouth full of toothpaste.

“Hmm?” Luther said looking up from his book.

Sam spat in the sink, “I _said_ , you don’t have to be jealous. Of Ruby I mean.”

“Who said I was jealous!” Luther said over defensive.

“I didn’t, I just said you don’t have to be.”

“Well I’m not ok! God Sam! Get off my back!!”

“Umm, okay?” Sam said, letting drop but eyeing him suspiciously.

Luther sighed, “Come to bed, ok? I’m tired.”

Sam put his toothbrush down on the side of the sink and climbed into bed with Luther. He turned out his bedside light and pulled the duvet over him. Luther dropped his book on the floor and clicked his light off too, shifting in the bed and spooning Sam as he always did before they fell asleep.


	13. Can You Not?

Sam woke up to an empty bed.  He clicked on his bedside lamp as he sat up. He looked over at the empty space that Luther ought to be filling and sighed. No prizes for guessing where Luther was. He tried so desperately hard not to think about the innocent people Luther was draining out of blood at that very moment in time. But, of course, trying _not_ to think of something is like trying to tell the sun not to shine; fruitless and impossible. There was nothing he could do about it currently, he thought to himself, so he got out his laptop and fired up his web browser. He loaded up Matt’s profile page and started reading the latest chapters of his Marvelle fic. He was the only one who knew Matt’s username – not even Matt knew he knew – and he wanted to keep it that way; he loved Matt’s fics, especially the ones about Dean and Cas, they were priceless.

Sam read a few chapters before becoming too sleepy to read anymore. He shut down his laptop and lay down to sleep hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night to find Luther gone again anytime soon. He wasn’t to be so lucky.

***

“Well look who it is. If it isn’t Sammy Winchester.” Ruby said as she sidled into the back room where Sam was watching TV.

“Oh, hello Ruby.” He said glancing up from the TV for a second. He was sat in the sofa-armchair-what-the-hell-is-this-a-love-seat-or-what chair.

Ruby sank into the whatever it was he was sitting in forcing Sam to budge up, which was incredibly uncomfortable considering the size of him.

“So gigantor, what’s on the box?” Ruby asked her voice slurred slightly, undetectably.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, it’s this British show. It’s about this man who travels in a blue box and travels through time and space with this chick, and anyway he is a humanoid alien, and then there are these things that are his arch nemesis and he destroys them but then they keep coming back and then there is this… you think I’m crazy.” Sam cut off as he looked at Ruby and saw the look on her face. “There is literally no way I can describe this show without sounding like a lunatic, but trust me; it’s a great sci-fi show. I showed it to Luther, and although he won’t admit it, I can tell he loves it. Seal of approval right there if ever you knew one.”

Ruby continued to look at Sam sceptically. “Right, whatever floats your boat.” Sam turned back to the TV.

“So I was wondering,” Ruby said, getting right to the point now, “How long have you been with Luther?”

“Pff” Sam huffed, “uh well, three months now? Officially, that is.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Sam flushed scarlet, “Um well for about six months before that Luther and I had a few, umm, run ins. If you catch my drift,” there was no way Sam was telling Ruby he was dating someone who had kidnapped him and forced himself on him multiple times.

“Sure.” Ruby said. She lifted one arm and smoothed a lock of hair behind Sam's ear. Sam shrugged her off annoyed. Ruby let her hand drop.

“Ruby, can you not?” Sam pleaded.

“Not what? I didn’t do anything.” Ruby said ‘innocently’.

Sam threw her a look.

“Are you serious? Come on Sam! That’s all in the past! It’s not as if I love you!” Ruby exclaimed, overly defensively?

The door slammed. Sam turned around to see who it was, but of course he couldn’t see, the door had been slammed. It was only later that he discovered – from Matt (again) – that Luther had overheard Ruby saying “I love you” to him. Unfortunately he hadn’t been there to see the full of it, nor had he stayed to see Sam get up and leave, with an appalled look over his shoulder to Ruby.

Sam hurried after Luther into the bar. He was just in time to see the door swing shut and to hear the sound of an engine revving and driving away. He looked around and saw Jo and Meg sitting together in the cards booth.

“Hey, is everything ok? Luther just left suddenly. He seemed angry or something. I think he’s taken your car too by the sound of it.” Jo said seeing Sam looking flustered.

“Crap!” he said.

“What is it?” Jo asked.

“He overheard me talking to Ruby; I think he’s getting jealous. Stupid! God that whole thing with her was like a million years ago! I have no feelings for her anymore! Not at all!!” Sam exclaimed. He kicked a chair (luckily Ellen wasn’t around to see that; the one thing she didn’t tolerate was messing with the furniture).

“Well I don’t think Ruby shares the sentiment.” Jo said.

“But why should that matter? I mean, she’s just a friend goddammit!”

Neither Meg nor Jo said anything; they just looked at each other before returning to what they had been doing before Sam had come in rushing after Luther.


	14. Lasagne...

Sam woke up again to an empty bed. This was the fifth time this week. Each time it happened Sam felt his annoyance grow. Each time he pretended to be asleep when Luther crept in in the mornings he had to fight the urge to get up and rant at him, or even to storm out altogether.

Sam rolled over and looked at the empty spot in the bed that Luther should have been occupying. As he had on previous nights, Sam switched on the light as he sat up and picked up _Cryptonomicon_ but this time he found he couldn’t read it; his infuriation at Luther made him incapable of attaching meaning to the words on the pages before him. He dropped it on the floor and ran his hands through his hair aggressively. It was beginning to get too much. Luther had severely increased the number of times he had gone out of late, and Sam had found it near on impossible to think of anything else, during the hours he was present or not.

Sam withdrew his computer from the drawer of the nightstand and loaded up his browser. He tried re-reading one of Matt’s Marvelle fics but again he himself consumed with despondency so much that he was unable to read. He put his laptop back and swung his legs out of bed. He needed to _do_ something, he needed to be _active_ ; sitting still and partaking in passive activities was insufficient.

Sam went downstairs and sauntered into the kitchen. Somehow he found himself getting out the cutting board and various ingredients, and before he knew it he was halfway through making a six layered lasagne. He was just applying the last layer of cheese sauce when the front door opened and Luther walked in.

Sam looked up from the lasagne and saw Luther looking at him an unreadable expression on his face.

“You’re-”

“Awake?” Sam finished for him, “Yeah.”

Sam turned his back on Luther as he put the lasagne into the oven and set the timer. Luther just stood there in the opening to the ‘kitchen’, watching him. Sam turned to face him again and leaned forward onto the bar, his arms spread wide and threateningly as he finally brought himself to look Luther in the eye.

Luther stood stock still his face a mask, unreadable. Sam could see the blood stain on the collar of his t-shirt and he almost lost it right then.

“Sam,”

“I know where you’ve been. I know where you’ve been every night you’ve gone out for the past three weeks.” Luther remained still, holding back anything he was feeling. “Why, Luther?” Sam said losing his cool.

“Can’t you guess?” Luther said through gritted teeth. When Sam didn’t reply Luther continued, “Frozen blood tastes _rank_. I’ll admit it tastes a darn side better than animal blood or any of that crap, but there is nothing, _nothing_ , as good as fresh human blood.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason though?” Sam muttered almost inaudibly, but Luther heard him.

Luther sighed and ran a hand over his face, and pushed his hair back.

“I didn’t think so.”

“Oh so _I’m_ the bad guy? _I’m_ the one who has to take the stick because I’m a _vampire_ and just because my nature is set so that I _crave_ human blood, I am automatically in the wrong?!”

“No. I didn’t. That’s not my point?!” Sam exclaimed.

“THEN WHAT IS?” Luther shouted, forgetting the fact that there was a houseful of sleeping people, “DO YOU THINK I HAVEN’T NOTICED YOU SPENDING SO MUCH TIME WITH RUBY? WITH _RUBY_ SAM!”

“WHAT? THERE IS NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN US?!!!”

“YOU SEEM PRETTY CHUMMY WITH HER CONSIDERING SHE’S YOUR _EX-GIRLFRIEND!!!!”_

“ _EX!!!_ LUTHER! _EX!_ GOD THAT WAS ALL IN THE PAST!!”

“REALLY? FROM WHAT I’VE OVERHEARD FROM VARIOUS SOURCES, INCLUDING _MY OWN EYES_ , SHE IS STILL CARRYING A TORCH FOR YOU!!!”

“SO WHAT? THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL ANYTHING FOR HER!”

“ARE YOU SAYING THAT YOU’D TELL ME IF YOU WERE CHEATING ON ME?” Luther demanded, “I didn’t think so.”

“ _I’M NOT CHEATING ON YOU!!”_ Sam shouted desperately.

“Yeah? Well I’m sorry but I don’t believe you.” Luther said, his voice now low and cold.

“What? Luther! Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m not kidding.” Luther huffed before steeling himself and saying, “You know what? Fuck you! I’m leaving! I am done with this! I can’t take seeing you with Ruby twenty four seven. I can’t take it. I am _through_ with you Sam. I can’t be with someone who lies to me.”

“Yeah? Well neither can I!” Sam retorted. “You’re one to talk! Been getting blood from blood banks. Right, that one really worked out fine didn’t it?! Go! Get out! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!” Sam shouted, his voice hoarse, the hurt leaking through his anger.

Luther strode past Sam into the kitchen. He took a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and stormed out of the road house, leaving Sam standing stunned in the kitchen, watching the empty road as Luther ran faster than his eyes could track, away from him.

When he finally looked away he saw Dean stood at the top of the stairs looking down at him. If Sam hadn’t been so consumed by what had just happened, he would have taken a moment to wonder how much of the scene Dean had seen. As it was, Sam stood there helpless and motionless until the timer on the oven pinged and he moved to take the lasagne out of the oven. He set it on the counter, before he sank into one of the booths and broke down into tears.


	15. What the Hell Did You Put In My Coffee?

“Sammy, I-” Dean started as he walked down the stairs. His voice cut out, however, when he realised he had nothing to say.

He walked over to the booth in which Sam was sitting, which he noticed was the one he and Luther had often frequented. He pulled up a chair and sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his arms clasped in front of him. After a moment of awkward sitting Dean lifted a hand and squeezed Sam's shoulder reassuringly. At this Sam looked up. His face was red and blotched from the tears that continued to spill silently down his face. This stirred some sort of brotherly instinct in Dean that caused him to overlook his image of manly man, and to pull Sam into a hug. Sam buried his face in Dean's shoulder and finally succumbed to the sobs that were so desperate to escape him.

“I’ve lost him!” he half spoke half sobbed into Dean's shoulder, “I blew it!”

“Shh. Shh.” Dean whispered and stroked Sam's hair as he let out the pain that had been building up in him ever since had been informed by Matt that Luther had broken his promise of only drinking blood from blood banks. Dean didn’t know this, of course, or he’d have been like to have kicked the leech out long ago. _Well_ , Sam thought, _I guess he knows now._

Dean held Sam tight until he had recovered enough to composure to pull himself together and draw away. He wiped dry the tears that had at last stopped tumbling uncontrollably.

“You ok Sammy?” Dean asked softly.

“Yeah,” Sam replied his voice shaky and thick from crying.

By this time the sun was rising – it had already been quite early in the morning when Luther had left. _The others will be getting up soon_ , Sam thought.

“I, uh, would rather the others didn’t see me like this.” he muttered. It was too late to hope they hadn’t heard; they _had_ been shouting very loudly.

Dean nodded and stood. He rubbed his jaw with his hand as he thought.

“Ok, go get dressed; I’ll go tell Cas we’re going out for a while. See you back here in five.” And with an encouraging nod to Sam he leapt up the stairs two at a time.

Twenty minutes later and the two brothers were on the road, headed to nowhere in particular. Sam didn’t want to talk about it, and neither did Dean, which made things an awful lot less awkward. As they cruised down the highway, Korn playing in the background, Sam felt comforted by the routine of it. It was just like the old days; travelling from place to place, the only thing missing was a destination… and a monster to waste. But Sam had a suspicion that YED had – with John having no small part in this – made some sort of deal with Lucifer to stop the demons from wreaking so much havoc. Or maybe they’d all suddenly had a desire to hang out with hunters. Either way, Sam was grateful.

***

_Meanwhile back at the Roadhouse…_

“Sam has terminated his affairs with the vampire.” Castiel said to Meg.

“Yeah, but like, so where is the punk?”

“The punk?”

“SAM! _God!”_

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t keep-“

“using your father’s name in vain, yeah yeah got it. So where is Sam?”

“He and Dean went out in Dean's motor veh- the Impala,” Cas corrected himself, his voice sharp (still pissed at Meg), “Dean informed me that they would be back by this afternoon, or tonight at the latest.

Meg rolled her eyes. “The dude’s got my Taylor Swift CD!”

Cas vanished and Meg went back to her Froot Loops. She was sitting next to Jo, now somewhat awkwardly since Cas had now randomly left.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Jo asked.

“I think one of Ruby’s friends is having a party that we can crash, you game?”

“Only if I get to drive.” Jo said.

“Honey, since when has that _ever_ worked?” Meg said looking at Jo with her eyebrows raised.

Jo rolled her eyes and got up to refill her coffee mug. “Oi! Mine too!” Meg insisted. Jo sighed and grabbed Meg’s mug, making it look as though it was the most outrageous thing Meg could have asked her to do. Meg had some _very_ specific ideas of some diabolical things she could ask her to do, and none of them involved mugs.

Jo returned to the table coffee in hand, and a very badly disguised smirk on her face.

“What have you done to my coffee?” Meg asked suspiciously.

“What?” Jo said, mock offended, “Would _I_ do anything to _your_ coffee? I may be blonde, but I’m not stupid!”

“I don’t trust you, here gimme yours!” Meg said, snatching Jo’s coffee regardless.

Jo watched as Meg drank from her mug… proceed to spit it out into her empty bowl.

“URRGH! What the hell did you put an entire bottle of Worcester Sauce in my coffee?!” Meg demanded, her eyes flicking black briefly.

She put her mug down on the table, and launched herself at Jo. they tumbled to the floor and Meg proceeded to tickle her relentlessly, ignoring her screams of laughter and begs for mercy.


	16. Distractions and Microwaves

Sam wasn’t sleeping. Not these days. Not since Luther had left. To be fair, he had hardly been sleeping in the weeks leading up to his departure, but it was a different type of not sleeping. Before he knew Luther would be back, and that he had Luther, even if what he had been doing had ended it all. Sam missed Luther’s presence; his bed felt empty and cold without him. If he was honest with himself (which he hardly ever was) he missed Luther more than he missed Jess. The thing was, with Luther he felt _right_. It was hard to explain, it felt like they were two puzzle pieces that _fit_ perfectly together, or some bullshit like that. But Sam tried not to think of that too much.

With his bed feeling so empty, Sam had taken to sleeping – or rather spending his nights – on the sofa, generally watching crap TV, or reruns of “Whose Line is it Anyway?”. Or occasionally he would read Matt’s fics. He was getting pretty good these days; his chapters were longer and the writing wittier. Sam would try to read a book from time to time, but he preferred sci-fi and fantasy, and that only led him to think of Luther, and that hurt too much.

One night, a few days after the break up, Sam was sitting on the sofa, up to date on fics, unable to read and in absolutely no mood for watching TV. He was feeling restless and desperate to be active. He considered going into the back room to chill with Matt and Emily, but they seemed to like being on their own at night, he had noticed. And besides, he thought, it was almost four, they had probably gone to bed over an hour ago.

Sam sighed and stood up letting the blanket fall to the floor. He flicked the TV off and crept downstairs, his feet padding silently on the cold hardwood floor. He slipped on his shoes and shrugged his arms into his jacket before going outside to the ‘Stang. Of late he had been trying to fix her up a bit; get rid of the rust, and reupholster the seats where the leather was coming away. It was slow work, but good; it kept his hands busy. Sam flicked out his knife and began to strip away the leather of the back seat methodically, expertly.

Within a few hours he had completely removed the seat leather of the back seats, and was very hungry. As he entered the bar he saw Ellen in behind the bar wiping down the counter.

“Hello Sam.” She said looking up briefly. “Up early again.”

“Uh, yeah, working on the car, couldn’t sleep” Sam explained, walking past her to the fridge. He pulled out bacon, eggs, butter, and other ingredients to make chocolate chip pancakes with bacon. At one point he would have made them for himself, but by now he knew that it was less trouble to make enough for everybody, or else he’d have it nicked by Meg. As he plated them up Meg slid down the bannister in her underwear. When she saw the plate she shouted “PANCAKES!” and grabbed a plate and piled it high. Not long after that a swarm of hunter and demon alike clambered down the stairs in response to Meg’s cry. Sam took his plateful and went to sit outside on the hood of the ‘Stang, away from the others.

“Oi!”

“Hey! No, _I’m_ going to ask him.”

“No you’re not! _I_ will! Sam doesn’t like you.”

“He likes me better than you!”

Sam heard the muffled voices coming from inside and decided that he didn’t particularly want to find out what they were talking about. He left his plate on the bench and started up the car. He had driven just out of sight when Meg and Ruby came out of the door still fighting.

***

Sam leant against the ‘Stang as he filled her up with gas. He watched the numbers trickle by on the beat up meter, lost in thought. When the tank was filled he put the nozzle away and ducked over the side of the car to and reached into the glove compartment for his wallet. The damn thing was jammed. He slammed his fist against it in an attempt to jiggle the latch and open it, but to no avail.

“ _Dammit!”_ he cursed under his breath. He slammed it again, with the same result. He kicked the wheel of the ‘Stang in frustration.

“I didn’t steal you a perfectly good car if I’d known you were gonna go and abuse her.”

Sam straightened and turned around sharply. Leaning against the gas pump was Luther. Sam swallowed hard. It had been a while since the night, with the lasagne, but the sight of Luther standing there washed away the time they had been apart, bringing back the memory of the fight afresh with a new clarity. His breath hitched in his throat, and he took a step back, hitting the car.

“I. You. What are you doing here?” Sam spat defensively.

Luther pushed himself away from the pump and he leant into the ‘Stang, unlatching the glove compartment with ease. Apparently Luther still had the same respect for Sam's personal space as ever, which was none.

_No._ Sam forced himself to think, despite himself. _This means nothing. It’s just a coincidence._ But he couldn’t help but think about the fact that Luther happened to be a well-practiced stalker. He drew himself away from Luther as far as the limited space allowed; he was still smadenedby their disagreement.

Luther stepped back and handed Sam his wallet. He looked Sam up and down with an expression, which left Sam utterly bewildered, before he turned and left, his shoulders hunched in his thick black leather jacket; leaving Sam standing alone at the gas station staring after him.

***

“’Sup bitches?” Meg cried as she swaggered into the bar.

 “Hey, have you seen my copy of Paranormal Activity anywhere?” YED asked suspiciously and incredibly pissed off.

“Umm, no, I most certainly have not seen your copy of Paranormal Activity… nope. No I have definitely not seen it. Nope nowhere. Definitely not in the microwave. Not melted.” Meg said, with a mischievous smirk.

 “Awkward…” Ruby sniggered.

Meg whistled “innocently” as she sat on the back of the booth seat.

 “How about every time someone microwaves my stuff, I go out and set someone on fire? Seriously, that was a brand new copy! I had to get it after what happened to the last one…” YED said dejectedly.

 “I don’t really see why you want it… it’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” Ruby laughed.

 “Hey! I was _not_ responsible for the last one! That was Luth- umm not me.” Meg said. Shutting up quickly as she realised that that may not have been tactful, and trying, for once, not to put her foot in it.

Sam looked away; he didn’t want to think about it. He hadn’t told anyone about Luther being at the gas station, and he wasn’t going to. Just then he would much rather think about Meg melting YED’s stuff again.

“Hey! That was a perfectly respectable haunting. I did manage to kill that one guy and… I er… I broke a picture… yeah! Their photo was totally ruined! Also I… um… I damaged a borrowed a Ouija board- that guys friend will be sooo pissed off with him!

-YED

“Hey! That was a perfectly respectable haunting. I did manage to kill that one guy and… I er… broke a picture… yeah! Their photo was totally ruined! Also I… um… I damaged a borrowed a Ouija board – that guy’s friend will be sooo pissed off with him!” YED laughed, failing entirely to convince anyone that he is capable of doing a proper haunting.

 “Ooh, a Ouija board…” Ruby said in a mocking voice, and wiggled her fingers at him ‘mysteriously, “ _Scary!”_

 “I don’t see you doing any better!” YED exclaimed.

 “Yeah, you’re right. I am so sorry for causing offence. I have never seen a haunting more perfectly done. Oh no wait. No, I thought I was talking about _my gap year!_ In which I managed to slaughter a whole village of people, one at a time. _In one month!_ ” Meg cried mockingly.

 “How many times do I have to tell you: DEMONS DON’T TAKE GAP YEARS!” YED shouted exasperated, “Seriously, I tried to get you to help out with my awesome plan that year and all I got was you ignoring me by saying that!”

 “Blah, blah, blah! My gap year was awesome! I accomplished like a million times more than your plan ever did. Which was soooo over extravagant by the way. I mean, seriously, that took you like ten years to even get it started!” Meg laughed.

“Maybe instead of fighting over who is the most badass, you could stop squabbling like three year old girls and actually act like demons! Or has your little hunter tamed you, Azazel?” Ruby tutted.

“Yeah, has daddy’s wittwl boyfwiend gowt him awl tamed and domesticated? Awww wittwl daddykins afwaid of upsetting his ickwl boyfwend! Aww!!!” Meg mocked.

YED glared at Ruby and Meg, and growled, “If you suggest that _one_ more time, I swear, I will not hesitate to burn this entire place to the ground and leave you here impaled on with that stupid knife.”

 “I’d like to see you try.” Ruby smirked as she sauntered out of the bar.

 “And how would you get hold of Ruby’s knife? Dean's got it, and last time I checked he’s fucking an angel, soooo good luck with that!” Meg threw at him.

 “I could possess someone, walk up to him and say ‘Hey could I see that knife?’ and hope that he’ll hand it to me. It didn’t work the last two times but (hopefully) third time’s a charm, right?” YED suggested.

Ruby popped her head back round the door to inform them that “No, I have it back, actually.” Before leaving again.

 “Yeah… you go ahead and try that now. Can I watch? I just love laughing when people fail so miserably!”

 “No!” YED shouted, “I’m still annoyed with you for randomly possessing Sam and trying to screw up my epic plan of amazingness!”

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. But you gotta admit, Jo is one hot chick. And I got waaaay more done in a week than you did in _ten years!”_

 “Just because nothing happened during those ten years doesn’t mean I wasn’t doing stuff! It just so happens I was _strategizing!”_ YED cried exasperatedly.

 “So _slow!_ Jeez! I was getting shit DONE! Meg, one. Stupid-ass-fuck-father-who-calls-himslef-a-demon, minus four million.”

 “I’m sorry? Who here got the Devil’s Gate opened? And who here was exorcised once and ran away crying when it almost happened again?” YED said in a superior tone.

“EXCUSE ME! I DO NOT CRY!” Meg shouted, “Fine! That is it! I am burning your copy of the hunger games! I didn’t want to do this – well that is a lie I have been waiting for an excuse to do it actually - but I will. Look, watch me go!” she skipped up the stairs as she said this, returning with the entire’ trilogy in her hands.

“NOOOO! NOT MY HUNGER GAMES BOOK! DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO MOCKINGJAY- JUST DON’T HURT THE FIRST ONE” YED shouted desperately.

At that exact moment Lilith shoved head in door and said “I guess you could say it’s *sunglasses* Catching Fire! YEAAAAAAAHHHH”. Meg grabbed the broom which had been reserved for Lilith swatting before swatting her out the door.

“MWAHAHAHA!!! I am now holding all THREE books hostage! Now, apologise to me and go get me some cookie dough! And I  _might_ give them back…” Meg said triumphantly.

“No! I am not apologising for the truth!” YED said, “Also can I point out that you got caught under the same Devil’s Trap twice! Still not sure how you managed that one!”

Lilith poked her head back round the door to say “My time will come! Swat while you can, we’ll see who the one with the broom will be in the end. It will be me!” before running off into the night.

“May I point out that I also managed to escape a devils’ trap?” Meg said trying to keep her cool, “And anyway, where is my cookie dough? I’m waiting! My patience won’t last forever! And these books are starting to get a little warm over here…”

“As much as I don’t want to risk the safety of my books, I have to point out- that is not how you set stuff on fire. Trust me, I know a thing or two about randomly burning stuff (just ask the Winchesters, or Andy or Max). And why the hell do you want cookie dough? Baked cookies are sooo much better!”

“Cookie dough is fabulous!” Meg said throwing her head back and laughing, “And I’m no stranger to burning things either. I can make fire DANCE bitches!” Meg was starting to get bored now, impatient. “YOU’RE TAKING TOO LONG WITH THAT COOKIE DOUGH!!!” and with that Mocking Jay and Catching Fire burst into flames.

“Fine. You win…. or do you?” YED said before vanishing and reappearing moments later with Meg’s gap year box set. “Put that book any closer to the fire and your DVDs are taking a little trip to the ceiling…”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Meg cried. Extinguishing the flames, and hugging the Hunger Games close to her chest.

“Oh wouldn’t I? Let’s just see how disk one feels about that attitude?” YED levitated the first disc onto the ceiling. “Unless you want that disk to mysteriously combust, I recommend you drop the books. Now.”

Lilith inched in again and said “Looks like things are *sunglasses* getting heated. YEEEEAAAAHHHH” and ran away again before anyone could get her with the broom.

Meg dropped the book onto the counter exactly halfway between them. “Now, you put ALL of my disks on the counter there and no one and no thing gets hurt ok?”

YED put all the discs, including the one from the ceiling, onto the counter, and said, “Walk forward at the same time. Any sudden movements or tricks and its goodbye to your gap year!”

Meg obliged. And both she and her father grabbed their own possessions at the same time before backing away slowly. Luckily YED didn’t know that this was only one of her fifteen copies.

“So… do you want to play the ‘Steal the Colt from Dean Game’? It’s very amusing.” YED asked.

“What’s in it for me?” Meg asked with derision; she was still pissed and really wanted some cookie dough.

“It’s really funny. Seriously. I mean, I haven’t actually succeeded yet- but I’m pretty sure it’d be hilarious if I did.” YED said.

“Nah! Not really my thing, I like winning. Not really into the whole playing a game that I know I’m gonna lose because there is some ejit on my team.”

She hopped of the counter and skipped up the stairs to her and Jo’s room, leaving Sam and YED alone in the bar – well ash was passed out at the cards table, but that didn’t really count. Sam shifted awkwardly leaning against the bar as YED stared at him curiously, he was making him uncomfortable.

“You been having any of them dreams lately Sam?” he asked.

“Uh, no…”

“Huh, too bad.” YED said, “Hmm, say, you don’t feel like helping me out with a little something now do you? Nothing that important, y’know, just a little douchebag that needs sorting out.”

“What’s in it for me?” Sam demanded, he had learnt to never do anything for YED unless there was something useful for him in it.

“Eh, not much, just, y’know, superpowers.”

“Come off it! Don’t be ridiculous!” Sam scoffed. YED just looked at him until Sam said, “You can’t be serious?”

YED nodded, “of course I am, you’re my favourite Sammy.”

Sam thought about it for a second. The rational part of his brain told him that something was up with this, but the other part of his brain told him to just do it. And, when he thought about how powerless he had been feeling of late – what with the Luther thing – he silenced his logical brain and agreed to help YED, who grinned suspiciously (which Sam chose not to notice).


	17. Satan and the Dog Mermaids

“So let me get this straight,” Sam said to YED who was sat across from him, “You want me to help you break into sea World and what?”

“Break the necks of a bunch of seals.”

“Remind me why I agreed to help you again?”

“Because you’re a pussy.” Meg chimed in ‘helpfully’. She was sat as per usual on the back of the booth seat, instead of actually on it.

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes, ignoring her.

“Yeah right anyway sugar, you’re doing this because… you owe me for a favour…?” YED said, clearly making it up as he went doing – for once.

“Yeah? Really? How so?” Sam asked sceptically starting to rethink his decision to help YED with this ridiculous plan.

“Yeah, umm, well if it hadn’t been for your hunky-hunky Dad would never have looking the colt so you would never have found it and would never have had such a beef with those vamps in Colorado and therefore you wouldn’t have met Luther.”

This wasn’t strictly speaking true, they had gone to Colorado before they had they known the colt even existed, finding it had been a happy accident – well apart from the death of old Elkins. But Sam wasn’t thinking about _that_ just then his. His face had darkened at the mention of Luther’s name, and he balled his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands.

“Shut up.” Sam said with clenched teeth, “We have got an angel in our midst and I am not afraid to use him… or whatever.”

“Ok! Ok! Calm down sweetheart! Keep your hair on! You really don’t wanna be losing that now, do you Samson!?” YED said defensively. “Look alright, whatever the fact is you agreed to do this, ok? No taksie-backsies capiche?”

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. Dammit he hated demons.

“So where were we? … Ah yes the seals… ok, so here’s the plan. You and Ruby –”

“I’m NOT working with Ruby!” Sam spat, not even looking at her. He was furious at

“…go in separate?” YED added to keep Sam from snapping out again. “So you and _Meg_ go in through the back doors, right? Yeah and then _Jo_ and Ruby go in through the main entrance as like a distraction-“

“Wait, where will you be entering from?” Sam asked.

“I’ll be descending from the ceiling, duh!”

“Riiight…” Sam muttered. YED didn’t see – or at least pretended not to see – and continued to lay out the details of the plan before the two demons and two hunters.

***

“ _These are the chronicles of life and death and everything between…”_ crackled through the crappy juke box in the corner of the dimly lit bar.

Luther sat at the bar drinking; it was early evening and the place was deserted, save for Luther and some guy passed out in the bathroom. Luther leant on his elbows, his shoulders hunched over and hair falling over his face. One hand was lightly clutching the half empty whiskey glass, tipping it slightly, letting the golden liquid slosh to the rim, before sending it whooshing back to the bottom.

***

“So you guys ready?” YED asked enthusiastically looking at his assembled team of misfits; Meg, Jo, Ruby and Sam. There was a tired mumble from the team.

“YED, its four AM!” Meg complained.

“Suck it up! You agreed to this!” YED said.

“Yeah well you holding my gap year DVDs hostage was really useful for that wasn’t it?!”

“Now, now, princess! Don’t want to go risking their safety with that sort of language, now do you?”

“So, do we have to actually _break_ their necks or is slicing their throats or chopping their heads off also ok?” Sam asked.

“My, my, my! Sammy, how you’ve grown! Once upon a time it was chubby little Sammy all ‘be nice to the monsters’ and here we have you asking if you can slit a seal’s throat. Isn’t he adorable?” YED said grabbing Sam's cheeks between his forefingers and thumbs. Sam groaned and batted him away. “Right, anyway, if we do this quickly we can be home by breakfast time. In – kill the 66 seals – out. Got it? Right, synchronise watches… and go!”

YED disappeared and Ruby and Jo set off for the back leaving Meg and Sam to take the front door.

It was a messy morning. Meg casually killed six security guards before they even reached the main door; she wasn’t exactly being subtle. Together Sam and Meg managed to gank thirty five odd seals, and they all managed to be back by YED’s truck within two hours. Ruby had slowed the whole thing up by getting distracted by the penguins.

“Good work team.” YED said, climbing into the driver’s seat, “that went better than I had anticipated, although to be honest if _someone_ hadn’t spent so much time looking at all the cute a fwuffy wittwel animawls then we _could_ have been done HALF AN HOUR AGO! Oh and, uh, don’t get any more blood than simply necessary on the car; John doesn’t know I have it.”

***

“Um sir? We’re closing up now.” The bar tender said to Luther, tapping on the counter to catch his attention.

Luther looked up at him, his dark eyes flashing. He could hear the wet beat of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins. The scent pulled at his hunger. He snarled, revealing his teeth, his second layer of fangs protruding through his gums. He stood up in a flash and was instantly at the man’s side, his teeth about to close around the poor sod’s neck when he heard a gun click. He whipped his head around to see the drunkard pointing a gun at his head. He almost laughed. He snatched the gun as if it was a fly in the air, and threw it out the window. The glass smashed and through the window he could see the shadow of a tall man lumbering across the parking lot. The man reminded him of Sam. He retracted his teeth and dropped the barman to the floor. He shot a look at the drunk and darted out in the blink of an eye.

***

“Where the _HELL_ have you been?!” Ellen shouted when Jo stumbled into the bar covered in blood.

“Oh cool down!” Jo huffed, exasperated, “It’s not even my blood!”

“Have you been on a hunt?” Ellen accused.

“No! Well sort of, maybe.”

“Would you care to explain the blood then?”

“Uh… yeah, about that… well the thing is… we… uh… went to Seaworld.”

“ELLEN! You couldn’t get us some grub? For me and the team here?” YED cried as he entered the bar after Jo.

“Uh, what team now?” Ellen demanded.

“You didn’t tell her?” Meg asked, resting an elbow on Jo’s shoulder, and a machete propped up on her toe.

“Tell me what?”

“Calm down sweetheart!”

“Don’t you sweetheart me!” Ellen snapped and YED held his hands up with a mock hurt expression on his face.

“Anyway, as I was saying, the five of us just went on a little field trip to Seaworld this morning. No biggie.”

“Seaworld, _before_ half-past six in the morning?  And returning covered in blood? Mighty field trip you got running there! What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“Nothing, just a bit of Demon Fun!” Ruby said.

“Right, because last time I checked Demon Fun included a spot of murder and possession. Now as I’ve gathered you three have become awfully fond of those people you’re wearing. So that just leaves a little murder. Oh and Sam, Jo, I know we ain’t exactly exorcising these demons but I’m hardly pleased you’re a-helping them out.”

Sam and Jo looked at each other uncomfortably.

“Alright, well Sam and Jo have their reasons don’t ask me; they just agreed to help me out ok? You see the thing is, well,” his eyes flicked over to Sam and Jo, then to Ellen.

“What?” She demanded.

“Well we were um, breaking the sixty six seals sugar.”

“You were what now?” Ellen asked confusedly.

“The sixty six seals.” A voice floated down the stairs to the bar. It was deep and gravelly. They all looked up to see John standing there in his dressing gown. “The sixty six seals to release Satan from hell, to wreak havoc on this land. Basically you were trying to start the Apocalypse.”

“Ah…” YED said, incredibly uncomfortable.

“Unfortunately for you, you missed the true meaning of Breaking the Seals.” Cas said appearing suddenly behind Ellen.

“Oh yeah? What was that?” YED asked defensively.

“Well the seals aren’t actually ‘seals’ as in not the dog-mermaids, as in the demonic shit that involves- usually- slaughter, murder, sacrifice, etc.” Dean said, sauntering through from the back room. “So what exactly were you guys doing?”

“Well we killed a bunch of seals- sixty six of them to be exact- DUMBASS!” Ruby snarled.

“Oh yeah, and I’m sure the security guys were cool with that, y’know, helped you out even.” Dean retorted.

“Well no not exactly.” YED said. “There was a little… persuasion here and there.”

“Huh, yeah, some persuasion, Meg killed six guards as we were walking through the parking lot, just for looking at us funny. Trust me, _that_ was _not_ what I signed up for.” Sam reassured his brother.

“But you still went along though, didn’t ya?” John scolded, “I notice you didn’t try to stop ‘em. Also I see you didn’t ask _why_ or _what_ you were doing killing a bunch of innocent animals.”

“Oh shut up!” YED said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, “You Winchesters! Always with the family spats! Jeez! Sorry sweets but you got to face the fact that your boys aren’t kids no more! You gotta let ‘em make their own choices. And hell! You ain’t one to talk, you’ve been shacking up with _me_ , your own personal demon!” The three Winchesters started to protest, but YED cut over them, “Look! If I have to fry another one of you then so be it. I don’t wanna, but I will. Alternatively we could just forget this whole thing so I can get me some breakfast down me?”

“If you want to break Lucifer free from hell, I will end you, you son of a bitch.” Cas said in his deep gravelly ethereal voice, before looking over at Dean and winking.

“I thought so. Right, who’s cooking?” YED said.

Sam rolled his eyes and dropped his machete to the floor. It was always him doing the cooking.

***

Luther clenched his hands into fists around the steering wheel of the car he’d broken into. He was wrestling with himself over whether or not he ought to go. _Dammit_! He thought, and whacked the steering wheel. He picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels from the passenger seat and drank. There was only a little left in the bottle so he soon finished. Since it was empty he threw it out the window and it smashed against the wall of the motel. He snarled. Fuck this. He got out of the car and slammed the door, returning to his motel room.


	18. Whiskey, Roof Tops, and Ideas

Sam woke up shaking, sweating and gasping for breath. He’d been dreaming, or more to the point, he’d been having a night mare.

“Luther,” he mumbled, as he rolled over reaching around under the sheets to find Luther’s familiar form. He found nothing, it was only then that he remembered Luther had left, there was no ‘Luther’ anymore.

Sam

Sam stood up, still shaking and stumbled into the bathroom, he ran the tap and splashed the cold water over his face, trying to calm his nerves. He pushed his hair away from his face and he was brought back to a time, long ago, in a crappy motel room, being tied to a chair, the taste of whiskey on the breath of another. Another who had been wearing a black leather jacket, and such dark brown hair.

Sam splashed his face with water again trying to shock the thoughts from his head. It didn’t exactly work – he could still sort of smell the whiskey (but that might have been the bottle in the cabinet). Well at he wasn’t thinking about the nightmare anymore, although he wasn’t sure if this was any better. Sam sighed, and opened up the cabinet taking out the bottle of whiskey Luther had kept there – he hadn’t been able to get rid of it – and drank. It was strong and that was what he needed. He went back to the bed and drank the entire bottle before finally falling back into unconsciousness.

***

Luther sat on the roof of the warehouse, his feet dangling over the edge, Jack Daniels hanging loosely in one hand. In his other, he held his phone, poised to hit call. He looked out over the small part of the city he could see from here. He sighed and shut his phone. He was never going to call him, but entertaining the thought of it was a regular occurrence.

“That fucking kid.” He muttered to himself. Sam _was_ a kid to him; he was over a hundred and fifty years younger than him. “That fucking gorgeous kid.”

He jumped off the roof and went inside the warehouse; the sun was rising, and he was tired. He thought he would at least _try_ to get some sleep.

***

“Fuck off Dean!” Sam spat. “Look, I don’t want to talk about that right now! I don’t care about the Impala needs the thing or whatever! OK?! Just leave me alone!”

“Oh grow up Sam! It-”

“I said leave!” Sam shouted.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but the look in Sam's eyes was murderous, so he left, slamming the door hard behind him.

Sam sat, alone at last, in his room. The lights were off; the only light came from the bathroom, where the door had been left slightly ajar. He took a swig from the whiskey bottle and rocked his head back on his shoulders, sinking further into the sofa cushions.

He scrunched up his face and huffed a short sigh.

_Fuck that fang!_ He thought. _Fuck that goddam vampire and his rope!_

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the world again. It wasn’t working. He picked up the remote to his stereo and switched it on, cranking the music up. The music was now blaring out of the system and it was marginally easier to forget that the world outside his room existed.

***

Luther sat up, suddenly alert. He had an idea. It was crazy, but it was an idea. He didn’t know if it would work out, or if it would be… appreciated, but he didn’t care. He needed to do it. He didn’t know why… well sort of. But he was doing it nonetheless. He was a selfish creature, afterall.


	19. Halloween and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween and Meg has another idea for a party. Luther, some way away, has also been having ideas. Sam is roped into the party, despite wanting nothing more than to hole himself up in his room and sulk. Apparently everyone's plans go slightly awry, maybe for the better?

“DOOO you know what day it is?!” Meg cried as she skipped down the stairs.

The rest of the crew – all sat at the big table – looked up from their breakfast at the _joy_ that was an energetic Meg in the morning; it was rare enough that it still warranted a groan from some of them (she was out at parties every other night leaving her with killer hang overs more often than not). And besides, she was plenty irritating when they hadn’t just woken up, or, as in Sam's case, just got out of bed.

“Are you kidding?” Ruby said, “About half of us are demons, and the other half are hunters. Do you _really_ think we wouldn’t know what day it is?”

“Tuesday, right?” Dean joked.

“Whatever. So anyway, the BIG question is, what are we gonna dooo??! It’s HALLOWEEN!!!” Meg demanded.

The crew looked around at each other shrugging. “Spooky stories and snacks?” Michael suggested feebly.

“Will there be booze?” Ash asked seriously – most were surprised that he was awake at this hour (9am!!).

“Are you _actually_ asking  that question?” Meg scoffed.

“Yeah right, cool. Its cool. Lotta booze, gotcha.” Ash replied, smoothing back his hair.

“Right, so yeah… where was I…? Oh yeah. Ok so what are we gonna do tonight? I was thinking go out and scare some civvies shitless, maybe take home a trophy?” Meg asked eagerly.

“Umm… maybe the civvies might start to suspect us of, you know, _not_ - _natural_ stuff. Uh, that is if we go out and interact with them. Which I strongly suggest we do not do.” Sam reminded her.

“Haha-haha-maybeno! NEXT!!” Meg responded.

“Meg?” Jo said sleepily from behind her coffee. “I

“Hmm?”

“I think I got an idea, just, come back and ask me in an hour or so, you know, when I am actually awake yeah?” Meg rolled her eyes at this but sighed “Fine!” before getting herself some coffee, and some pancakes.

***

Luther drummed his fingers impatiently on the wheel of the car he’d “borrowed” earlier that day. It had just reached full darkness outside, _good_ , he thought; he liked the dark. He checked his watch again for the seventeenth time in the past hour. Time was moving very slowly, or at least it was for him.

***

“Help me with this pumpkin will you?” Bug Dude asked to the room in general. Ruby was at his side in and had fixed it in seconds.

The back room had been transformed, and Michael and bug dude were just finishing carving the pumpkins in the bar. All the sofas in the back room had been pushed back against the walls and the coffee tables had been moved into the bar. Black material hung from the ceiling and in front of the walls and windows. Candles burned in pumpkins in the corners of the room. In the centre of the room bottles of beer whiskey and other alcohols were arranged alongside cake, popcorn, and ice cream etc. Jo and Meg had gone out that morning and picked up all the stuff they needed. They would have bobbed for apples, but they had used the apples all up making toffee apples, which, believe it or not, neither Sam nor Dean had had before in their lives – a fact Meg found utterly outrageous and had ripped into John about it happily, until YED stopped her, that is.

“Yo, Sam!” Meg called up the stairs, “Quit moping on your lap top and come help us out will you!”

Sam sighed and shut his lap top lid. There really was no avoiding Meg when she wanted you to do something. He guessed it was a family trait.

Begrudgingly he descended the stairs – which were fortunately just outside his room – and joined the others in the almost completely decorated back room.

“What the hell? You’ve almost finished down here!” he complained.

“Yes. We _have_ almost finished _decorating_ but we still need food!” Meg said as if it was obvious.

“Umm, so the buckets of popcorn and Halloween candy is what? Fire wood?” Sam retorted.

“We need _pie!_ Duh! And since you seem to like the kitchen so much, Dean suggested you make it!”

Sam shot a look at Dean that said ‘I will kill you in your sleep’. But he sighed and headed to the kitchen and started making a selection of pies; cherry, pumpkin, and even a strawberry and custard pie (despite the strawberries being out of season). At one point Dean tried to come into the kitchen but made a very hasty exit when he saw the hostile look in his brother’s eyes; Sam had been in a pretty dark mood recently.

An hour or so later the oven ‘ding-ed’ and Sam removed the pies, and set them to cool on the counter. Not long after that Meg called for the party to start. It seemed she had organised a bunch incredibly humiliating of drinking games and Halloween related ‘games’ read ‘dares’.

***

Luther was _finally_ speeding down the empty highway, not another car in sight. He was impatient nonetheless to get there, but he was so close he could almost smell the place.

***

“PAAARTYYY TIIIIME!!!” Meg shouted through the Roadhouse, calling everyone down into the backroom to _finally_ begin a night of drinking, spooking, and more drinking – and, Sam thought, probably some humiliation mixed in there too.

The crew all bundled into the back room, sitting on blankets and pillows, crowded around the fantastic assortment of foods, and, of course, alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

When they had all finally settled Meg began to dictate the series of events she had in mind for that evening. The games were very complicated and Sam _really_ didn’t want to lose any of them considering the forfeits she had alluded to.

***

_Not long no_ , Luther thought, _not long now._

***

The night was in full swing. Sam had been sent out to get yet more booze from the bar. Fortunately he had managed to avoid _too_ much drinking, but he was just a little past tipsy. He scratched his head as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be getting, then giggled. The sound echoed hollowly in the empty room which made him giggle even more. He finally succeeded in remembering to actually get the booze and reached into one of the cupboards for it.

He straightened up and started back towards the back room and then a hand was wrapped around his mouth another restraining his arms. He tried to struggle but he was too tipsy and the dude was strong. He started to pull him towards the door. Sam struggled harder, although it was difficult despite his height advantage.

It took Sam a full minute for his foggy brain to register the familiarity of the posture and strength of the guy. When he suddenly realised who it was that had their arms wrapped so tightly around him he stopped resisting, sobering up a little.

If his mind hadn’t been clouded by the alcohol Sam would have been wondering what in hell Luther was doing here, now, on Halloween, kidnapping him from the only place he had been able to call home since, well no, the only place he had been able to call home _ever_. As it was all he tried to do now was turn to see Luther’s face. To check that it really _was_ him. They were outside now, and the full moon lit up the yard in bluish silver light. Luther continued to pull Sam towards the 'Stang. He let go with one hand to open the back door but Sam managed to slip free. He didn’t try to escape, as Luther had thought he would if presented with the opportunity. Nor did he make a sound. He only grinned.

Luther was befuddled; he had not been expecting Sam to be so… _compliant_.

Sam leant against the 'Stang, his butt keeping Luther from opening the door any time soon.

“Luther.” Sam tried to say calmly, but his breath hitched in his throat throwing away any hope he might have had of concealing whatever it was he was feeling at Luther’s sudden appearance. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but anger did not fit the description as he thought it might have previously.

Luther rested his hands on the car either side of Sam, restricting his movement, and not so subtly showing his power over him.

Sam looked up expectantly, but Luther just stood there staring at him intently, as if both knowing exactly what he wanted to do, but also entirely unsure of what his course of action should be.

Sam opened his mouth to try speaking again, but this seemed to make up Luther’s mind for him. He leant his head forward and pressed his lips furiously onto Sam's. Sam responded instantly, his desire taking over any rational thought. He tangled his fingers into the mess of dark brown hair that so resembled his own. His other hand snaked down his back and settle on the small of his back pulling him closer to his body. Luther let slip a groan of delight and pressed himself closer to Sam yet. His tongue darted this way and that, teasing at the roof of Sam's mouth. He flicked and curled his tongue around Sam's, sucking it into his own mouth. Sam moaned sank into Luther – if it was even possible for their bodies to get any closer.

They drew apart for breath and Sam let his head fall backwards while Luther tugged at the lobe of his ear with his teeth and began tracing wet little circles across his ear. Sam half chuckled and Luther started kissing along his jaw, running his nose along Sam's neck where his pulse was strongest. Sam let Luther trace his tongue along his vein, let him feel the pulse of his blood as it quickened with every one of Luther’s urgent touches. Luther grabbed Sam by the sides of his head and commanded he kiss him again.

Sam was in no way averse to this and certainly did not protest. Flexed his body, and groaned once more. His teeth tugged at Luther's lower lip, tearing at it shamelessly.

Sam heard a faint noise coming from the direction of the Roadhouse, but he ignored it; he was finding it very difficult to find anything other than the perfectly flawed vampire pressed up against him with his tongue down his throat.

The voice came again. Sam ignored it again. He continued to kiss him and Luther slipped his hand between the fabric of Sam's shirt and his skin, very glad to be feeling Sam's hot skin beneath his fingers. Sam pulled Luther even closer still until their legs were entangled meaning that without the support of the car behind him, Sam would have ended up falling flat on his back with such an egregious vampire on top of him. Which, Sam had to admit, was not such a bad thought at all, and might, in fact, be preferable.

“Sam! Where’s the hooch you -” Dean slurred sticking his head out the door. He cut short when he saw Sam all interwoven with Luther. He was shocked – to say the least – to see the fang standing there, but he was far too drunk to register the fact that Luther hadn’t been seen at the Roadhouse in a good few weeks. He _did_ , however, have the mental capacity to flash a grin at Sam – who had broken away momentarily, much to Luther’s persistent protestation – and give him a knowing look and a thumbs up, which seemed to say ‘go get lucky you sly bastard’, before going back inside.

Sam looked back at Luther who had taken to kissing his neck again.

“Do you wanna…?” he started, but Luther already had him in the car and was starting the engine before Sam had the chance to finish his sentence. Sam grinned and fell back onto the bench seat in the back of the 'Stang.

Luther sped down the highway towards the closest motel, the one they had often visited when they felt the Roadhouse didn’t offer the privacy they needed.

Sam was out of the car before Luther this time, although that didn’t stop Luther from slamming Sam up against the door to his motel room and kissing him as he unlocked it. They fell through the door, and Luther kicked it shut behind them. They stripped hastily, helping each other with buttons and buckles, and soon they were lying naked on the bed. Sam felt a shiver run down his spine, Luther’s mouth pressed against his in more urgent kissing. He had longed for this moment to come, but hadn’t allowed himself to even dream it might _actually_ come to pass. But here he was, here _Luther_ was, a leg pressed between his thighs, one hand knotted in his hair, lips working furiously.

After another moment or two kissing Luther didn’t waste any more time and soon enough Luther had Sam just the way he liked him; soft and pliant, and entirely _his_.

When they were finished they lay on the bed, neither of them speaking, neither wanting to speak for fear that it would shatter the illusion. The illusion that was not an illusion, the illusion that was in fact a glorious reality once more. Sam's eyes fluttered closed and unconsciousness started to tug at him. He tried to stay awake, but it seemed resistance was futile and sure enough he succumbed to sleep, leaving Luther lying in bed, with his very own Sam Winchester again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I'm not entirely cold hearted! These guys are my OTP did any of you really think that I could keep them apart for much longer? They're my babies!  
> I hope this chapter satisfies you all!  
> I don't know how much longer this fic will be; either it will only be a few more chapters wrapping it up OR it will at least double in length with the possible introduction of some other awesome characters? Tell me what you think!


	20. Congrats on the Sex!

Sam rolled over in the bed, and promptly fell out.

“Ugh,” he groaned, landing in the floor tangled in the sheets. For a moment or two he considered going back to sleep right there – it seemed as good a place as any. As he was thinking this a door latch clicked and he heard the thud of heavy boots on the thin carpet. He grunted in protest to the sounds – so inconsiderate, didn’t people realise that he was planning on marrying sleep?

But wait a second… he didn’t have a latch on his door, and who the hell was coming into his room uninvited?! Despite the terribly comfortable bit of floor, he dragged himself upright onto his feet. He looked around the room groggily, eyes full of sleep. There, right there, sitting in the tattered armchair, muddy boots on the coffee table, and eyes trained curiously on him, was Luther.

For a moment Sam thought he was still asleep, in some sort of dream come nightmare, but that thought was shattered by the pounding in his head (he was just a little dehydrated); you don’t get _real_ headaches in dreams.

“Hello sweetheart.” Luther said with a smirk, “Catching up on your beauty sleep?”

Sam chuckled nervously at this, and the memory of the night gone before came back to him in a rush.

“Uh, hi.” Sam said his voice unsure and gravelly from sleep. He cleared his throat with a little cough, and ruffled his hand through his hair. His mouth twitched with that little nervous tick he had. “Look, um, Luther, about last night… I… it’s not as if I didn’t… _enjoy_ it – believe me, I did – bu–”

Luther cut over him. “It doesn’t change anything right? _Well_ … I don’t really care. Y’see I _like_ you Sam, and I don’t appreciate it when things don’t go my way.”

Sam puffed out a breath, had he really expected anything else? Because, honestly, this whole thing had happened because Luther was trying to kidnap him again, obviously Luther wasn’t in the mood for leaving again. And, Sam barely admitted to himself, he was bloody glad of it too; he had missed Luther, and god he was grateful that he was back.

“Uh, sure, I mean, if nothing else, you sure are persistent until you get what you want right?” Sam said. Luther grinned behind his hair that was falling across his face again.

***

Sam pulled up outside the roadhouse and sat back for a second hoping that the crew were too hung-over/still lost in deep drunken sleep to notice them sneaking back in.

Luther took this opportunity to move in again and started kissing Sam's neck moving along towards his lips.

“ _Luther!”_ Sam said in exasperation, but he couldn’t help chuckling anyway. They kissed gently for a moment before Sam pushed him away claiming a desperate need for breakfast.

When they entered the roadhouse sa, stopped abruptly, causing Luther to walk right into him. The scene laid out before them was strangely reminiscent of a bombsite. There were bottles everywhere, cans too. Random items of clothing were strewn across the floor tables chairs, and Sam could have sworn he saw a bra hanging from the ceiling fan (probably Ruby, he thought to himself).

The door slammed shit behind them resulting in a vague shape stirring in one of the booths.

“mhmblmmemhmrunnng…” it mumbled and Sam raised his eyebrows.

 

The shape sat up and Sam could now see from the blonde hair that this particular shape was in fact Meg. She was wearing Cas’s trench coat and her underwear, and nothing else. He lipstick was smudged and Sam spied traces of another shade on her neck. She screwed up her face, pressing a hand to her forehead and groaned again.

Meg opened her eyes and looked around squintingly against the light, in search for the source of the noise. She laid eyes upon Sam and Luther in the door way and grinned.

“Guys! Ah!” she had trued talking at a normal volume, and then realised that it was probably a mistake what with her head ache.  Her voice turned to a mumble, “Congrats on the sex by the way……., we made you a cake.”

She looked around for a moment in search of it, before pointing at what may have been a cake, once. Sam moved over to where she had pointed, Luther following, a hand slung loosely around Sam's waist. What Sam saw was a blackened mound in the counter – no plate – smeared in bright pink icing what he supposed must have “congratulations on the sex” but the only word he could make out was “sex”.

“Umm, thanks?” he said, and Luther chuckled.

“I would totally high five you right now, but I don’t think I can move without vomiting.” Meg said groggily.

“Er, coffee?” Sam offered and she grunted.

Sam took this as a yes and picked his way over to the coffee machine kicking aside a pink lawn flamingo and a garden freaking gnome – where the hell had they come from?. He stepped over another ambiguously shaped mound of person and finally made it to the coffee maker.

As the machine was whirring away Jo woke up, she stretched out and in doing so, knocked an empty bottle to the floor where it smashed loudly.

“Dammit Jo!” Sam exclaimed a bit too loudly which then woke pretty much everyone up, apart from Ellen and Michael who had had the brains to go to their rooms for the sleeping part. There was mumbled complaining from every direction and Sam just rolled his eyes.

He huffed, “Coffee anyone?”

“Pancakes?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed and took a headcount and set to making coffee and pancakes for the lot of them.

“Right, there we go thirteen coffees, and twelve stacks of pancakes.” Sam said setting them down on the counter which he had made Luther clear, “…Wait a second,” he did the mental addition, “If Ellen and Michael are in bed, then how come thirteen people want pancakes? There’s _fourteen_ of us _including them_!”

“Oh, um, yeah, hi.” An Irish accented man mumbled.

“Oh yeah that’s Jack, or wait, were you Patrick?” Meg explained.

“It’s Patrick” the man explained.

 

“Right, ok,” Sam said passing him a coffee, then whispered to Meg, “Supernatural, hunter, or civilian?”

“Witch.” She replied into her coffee.

Sam just nodded and passed out the rest of the coffees – they could get their own pancakes.

“Sam.” He said introducing himself.

“Hello Sam.” Patrick said politely eyeing Sam up appraisingly.

Luther noticed this, and did not take to well too it. He wrapped his arms around Sam's waist pulling him back pressing their bodies together; he even tucked his thumb into the waist band of Sam's jeans.

“I take it you’re Luther.” Patrick said, turning his gaze to him, and with not less than an appreciative tone to his voice.

Luther kissed Sam's jaw, eyes still trained on Patrick, smirking. He said nothing. Sam blushed, but turned to give Luther a light peck on the lips, oblivious to the interaction between his vamp and this random witch. He wriggled and Luther let him go, but he kept a finger hooked into the back of Sam's jeans for a second until Sam walked away from out of arm reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this fic was originally going to be 10 chapters long and here I am posting chapter 20, with the next five chapters planned out and at least three more loose ideas floating about in the ether of my mind.  
> I hope you appreciate me wasting my life writing this. (Don't get me wrong, I do love writing this fic, it's glorious!)


	21. ~Meanwhile in Hell~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short break from the roadhouse to visit... well hell. /Some/ people are less than happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whilst very tired at ungodly hours of the night. So it has lots of typos and there are probably lots of things here that I have missed out so I will probably go back and fix it later.
> 
> But I promised people it would be here, so here it is!

“And isn’t he just the _cutest_ though?!” Satan muttered his head resting in his hands as the image on the screen flickered so that it was now displaying the scene unfolding at the roadhouse _Up Above._

Lilith rolled her eyes, one foot on the table keeping her in balance as she tipped back in her chair. “Not this _again!_ ” she moaned – Lucifer was _always_ watching them, he was an absolute sucker for Winchester Cam, he just couldn’t get enough.

“I just like to make sure that he, y’know, is doing ok.” Lucifer said dismissively.

“Can we _please_ get back to the task at hand?” Lilith said exasperated, and rocking forward on her chair so that she was sitting upright. She slammed her hands on the table as she did so.

“ _Fine!”_ Lucifer complained muting the TV screen. “What was it you two were bickering about?” Honestly being the king of hell really was tiresome when the wretched demons were so damn needy all the time. But, he thought, he needed them on his side.

“As I was saying, you totally took my job away and gave it to two bloomin guys?” Lilith complained, “I mean I was doing a perfectly fine job myself thank you very much. Since when did _he_ ” she said with barely even a glance at Alastair sitting across from her, “even need to interfere? He could have been helping to break the other seals! But no apparently you had to send him meddling in my business!”

“Hang on now!” Alastair complained in his affected accent, “I did a great job!”

“I’m not saying you didn’t I’m saying you were doing _my_ job. A job that I was – _am_ – perfectly capable of doing. A job that I was already half way through?!” Lilith retorted.

“Lilith please,” Satan said raising his hand to silence her. “I get that you’re upset but you need to see the bigger picture here-”

“I don’t _care_ how cute the Winchesters are!” Lilith burst out cutting over him.

Both Lucifer and Alastair looked shocked. Lilith just rolled her eyes.

“What? I don’t.” neither of them showed any sign of this being an adequate explanation. “Honestly you guys would think that the only thing that mattered was screwing the Winchesters!” the two men – if you could call them that – now looked positively outraged. “Oh come _on!_ Next thing you know you’ll be changing the rules and making it so that I’d have to actually _sleep_ with them to make deals.” She joked.

“Well… umm…” Lucifer said, shifting in his seat.

“You have got to be kidding.” Lilith said, looking from one to the other. “No. No way.” When neither of them made a move to correct her, she continued. “I cannot believe you! There is absolutely _no_ reason to make me do that! Why on earth, heaven, hell, purgatory or complete non-existence, would you do that?”

“Well, you’re a woman,” Alastair began,

“And you’re their main nemesis, apart from me, that is.” Lucifer tacked on quickly.

“I’m sorry. I must have missed the lesson in demon school that told us that all women must automatically be there to fulfil sex scene quotas for the season. I also must have missed the memo saying that a nemesis must want to sleep with the main characters.” Lilith spat sarcastically.

“But… you’re a woman…?” Alastair repeated feebly and somewhat confusedly. Obviously Lilith had him stumped.

“Yes, I am. Kind of you to notice.” She hissed. “There is no way that I am doing that. Sorry – well no I’m not sorry because why the fuck should I apologise for not want to sleep with someone? – but there is no way in any realm of existence that I am going through with that. Let me spell it out for you. I. Am. Not. Sleeping. With. Anybody. Just. To. Make. A. Sordid. Deal. So suck it up, princess.”

Lucifer scowled at her, but conceded.

“Now back to my original point. I want my job back.”

“What’s the big fuss?” Alastair grumbled.

“What’s the fuss? The fuss is I have been cheated out of a job for no reason what so ever. I dare you to find a reason. And don’t you dare say anything along the lines of ‘you’re a woman’ because I will eat your children for breakfast.” Lilith warned him deadly serious.

Alastair opened his mouth to speak once, twice, three times before looking to Lucifer for help. Lucifer just shrugged.

Lilith threw her hands in the air and huffed an exasperated sigh.

“Now you listen here.” She said her voice ice cold, “I want my job back. In full. No job shares. I don’t want to hear that you’ve ‘delegated’ part X to some sod like Al. I don’t want to hear that you think Alastair the bastard is better suited for certain parts. There is no need for him. He. Is. Unnecessary. You will take back what you said about me having to have sex in order to make a deal. It has never before been established that any demon needs to do anything more than kiss in order to make a deal. Why ever would you change it. Why would you expect me, of all people, to accept that change? No more of this ‘you’re a woman’ crap. Do I make myself quite clear?”

“I am the king of hell you know.” Lucifer replied equally coolly, but with a hint of sullenness to his voice.

“And I am the only one capable of freeing you.” Lilith reminded him. “Have we reached an agreement?”

Lucifer looked at her steadily in the eye for a moment, contemplating. Then cast a look over to Alastair, an apology in his eyes, before extending his hand for Lilith to shake.

Lilith shook it then swept out of the room, done with all of their bullshit.


	22. Wrong Turn

“I’m sorry. Bad introduction.” Patrick said in his Irish drawl. “I sort of got swept up in the party last night. Y’see I was travelling with some companions and we stopped off for refreshments. Before we’d even stepped in the door, it seemed, we had been enveloped in the party and there was no escape. Well, not for me. I assume my friends managed to. But no worries, I’m sure I’ll catch up with them once I get over this headache.”

“Right.” Sam said. “Well sure, I guess you can stay. I mean this is _supposed_ to be a rest stop on the road. But well, as you can probably see, we all sort of invaded the place.”

Luther and Sam went up to their room, avoiding the chaos downstairs. They flicked the TV on and watched an old episode of Doctor Who. Luther preferred Classic Who, but Sam had a soft spot for David Tennant. Luther had seen every episode of Doctor Who ever made and Sam often would ask for details of the second Doctor’s time since the BBC had lost copies of a bunch of early episodes due to a flooding incident way back when things weren’t stored digitally.

They had just started watching the first 10 episode when there was a knock at the door, they paused the TV. The fact that the person had knocked was indication enough that it was someone new, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when the head that poked around the door moments later was Patrick’s.

“Hi.” His accent ringing out clearly into the room, “I was hoping I could erm, join you, in umm… what are you doing?”

“Hiding?” Sam guessed. “Meg can be a bit much sometimes. We’re watching… its sci-fi…” he was unsure whether or not this guy would be interested in Doctor Who.

“It’s called Doctor Who. It’s British.” Luther grunted.

“Do you mind?” Patrick asked, Sam nodded and Patrick sat in the empty arm chair.

Sam didn’t notice, but Luther spent the next two hours throwing dirty looks in Patrick’s direction every few minutes; he had been quite enjoying his alone snuggle time with Sam.

***

“Whoa! Hold up!” Bela hissed at the screen.  She turned to Crowley beside her who was looking just as confused as she felt. “That is not supposed to be happening! We told him that he needed to get Sam out of there as quickly as possible!”

“Don’t look at me.” Crowley said.

“Please do not tell me that what is happening is what I think is happening.”

“Well I’m not going to tell you the telly tubbies have been caught in an armed robbery!”

“This is just typical. Honestly, if you want a job done, do it yourself.”

Crowley shrugged. Bela rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the screen.

***

“So Sam.” Patrick said as they ate Chinese take-out the three of them in Sam and Luther’s room, “Do you like poker?”

“I’m not much of a player, but I like the odd game. If you really want to play I’d suggest playing Luther here, he’s a devil.” Sam replied poking him in the ribs.

Luther made a noncommittal grunt. He of course was not eating. Not that he _couldn’t_ eat, only that he didn’t need to, so he chose not to.

“What _do_ you like then, if it’s not poker? Not much for gambling, or is another game your thing?”

“Gambling isn’t really my area.” He explained, “More of Dean's thing. I prefer reading and such. Books, articles, whatever. What about you?”

“Poker’s my thing. Been playing it as long as I can remember.”

They continued to eat and talk in a similar fashion for some time. Luther soon got bored of giving Patrick a nonstop death stare and had taken to playing with Sam's hair, and only throwing the occasional dirty look at Patrick. Sam was _his_ again finally, he wasn’t going to let some blasted witch get his hands on him.

***

“We’ve got to do something about this.” Bela tutted, “He’s taken too long.”

“Give him a chance he’s not even been there twenty four hours yet.” Crowley interceded in that same tone of his. “And Sam's hardly been back any of that time! Do you trust me?” Bela looked up at Crowley but didn’t answer, “Do you trust me?” he pressed her, to which she nodded.

They cast their eyes once more to the screen to watch the scenes at the roadhouse unfold.

***

“So what brings you to this neck of the woods?” Sam asked Patrick as he and Luther worked on some repairs on the 'Stang.

“Oh just some friends of mine and I were travelling. Road trip across the states, y’know.” Patrick said taking a sip from his coffee.

“Won’t they be missing you?” Luther asked.

“To be honest they won’t even notice I’ve gone. I’ve probably got until they run out of fuel before they notice.” He jested.

“There! Done!” Sam said stepping back from the 'Stang banging the hood shut. He moved round to the driver’s side and revved the engine. “Ahh. Music.”

“So you gonna show me what she’s got?” Patrick asked.

“Uh, sure.” Sam said, and indicated for him to join him in the car.

Sam had just put the engine in gear when he felt a slight movement in the back seat. Luther, of course. Sam ignored it, and Patrick didn’t even notice he was there.

***

“See what did I tell you?” Crowley said.

“Alright.” Bela sighed handing over fifty quid.

***

They were at the gas station, filling up the 'Stang. Sam had just got back from paying when Patrick asked, “Can I drive?”

Sam was apprehensive; the only person he’d let drive her until now had been Luther. He cast a brief look over at him but his face was unreadable. “Uh, sure.”

Patrick shifted across into the driver’s  seat as Sam climbed into the passenger seat. Patrick pulled out and sped off in the opposite direction of the roadhouse.

They drove for about half an hour, neither Sam nor Luther thought much of it. That was until Patrick pulled up in front of a worn down warehouse.

“Dude what the fuck are you doing?!” Sam demanded but before he got an answer Patrick had worked some witch voodoo and had knocked them both out.


	23. Angel Bros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mooooovie Niiiiiight!!!!!

"Move over!"

"Shut up!"

"Hey! Watch it!"

"What!? Now I can't see the TV!!"

"Wait a second, what the hell are you doing here?!" Michael demanded.

"I'm here to eat your puppies!" Lucifer said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "It's angel movie night! You know the reason  _you're_ here?!"

"I know it's angel movie night!" Michael snapped. "But I don't seem to recall you being invited!"

"Oh come on brother!" Lucifer said pouting, "You say that every half millennia!! Why do you never invite me? I'm hurt!"

"We never invite you because, let me see, YOU'RE SATAN?!?! Could that possibly be why?" Michael said in an incredibly sneering voice.

"Um actually the idea that Lucifer is 'satan' or 'the devil' is a medieval idea and neither of which have any precedent in the bible... Which is, you know, like, our bible." Gabriel chipped in.

"Thanks bro." Lucifer said, "So do you want to continue with your historical inaccuracies... Or are you gonna shut up and get the pop corn?" Lucifer said turning back to Michael.

Michael deliberated for a second before smirking and saying "Well fine. You may not be satan but God still hates you."

LUcifers face suddenly darkened, his smile fell away, and his eyes turned to thunderous chasms.

" God is a bastard and we all know it." Anna said twisting round to glare at Michael.

"Calm your tits Annabiel!" Michael said defensively, obviously wrong-footed.

Lucifer grabbed Michael by the throat and smashed him up against the wall. "Leave my lil sis alone. Shut up and get the popcorn" Lucifer shoved Michael and sat down in the best armchair - the one Michael always claimed.

"Thanks Anna." He said.

"Thanks Luce." She said with a nod in his direction.

"I'm glad the writer didn't alter your character drastically then kill you off just because you're female." Lucifer said ruffling his little sister's hair.

"I know right!" Anna agreed, "That would have been really dumb and not to mention sexist. I'm an awesome character."

"Hey Gabe! Move over!" Balthazar said. Or rather the puff of over dramatic theatrical smoke said. Balthazar had arrived late, as usual, and, as usual, decided he needed to make an entrance.

"Hey bro!" Gabe said pulling Balthazar into a bro hug, the smoke disappating slowly.

"Gabe! How've you been?"

"Not bad. Faking my own death pretty regularly now, you?"

"Yeah me too. About five times this millenia. Fun times."

"Ah yes, its been seven myself. Still got a few alliases on the go though." Gabe said tapping his nose, winking and elbow nudging and adding in a knowing look.

Balthazar laughed. "Here," he said, "you want a red vine?"

"Do I ever?!?!" Gabe replied uber enthusiastically, helping himself to the box Balthazar held out for him.

"What news since last we spoke?" Balthazar asked. "Actually, I don't care. By the way the antichrist has settled well in his new home down under. He's doing well."

"Oh really? Thats the sort of thing I like to hear." Gabe replied casually.

"Oi! Are you two going to shut up any time soon? Or am I going to have to make you?" Uriel said in that dickish voice of his which seemed able to carry across the room oh-so-effortlessly. Vaguely in the background the sound of Castiel could be heard chuckling.

"Bite me." Balthazar replied, not bothering ti even turn to look at him.

"Are we gonna start this movie or what?" Anna said.

"Right. Sorry." Raphael said.

"What are we watching by the way?" Lucifer asked.

"The choice lies with you." Raphael said, and named two of the crappier more righteous movies of the century. The names were not ones taken down or recorded in anyway, and this is not because I couldn't think of a film that is crap enough or suitable enough for angels to watch. Shut up.

"Are you shitting me?" Gabe groaned. "We watched those last year! AND they're totally crap and boring!"

"Hear hear!" Balth emphasized.

"They're good films." Uriel said monotonously.

"Shut up Uriel. You wouldn't know a good film if it hit you in the face and was in flashing neon!" Balthazar reminded him.

Finally, after much arguing, the angels decided on a movie. After much persuasion and encouragement  from Anna, Cas and Lucifer (the angels with the most contact with the human world) they finally decided on Raiders. And, although he would never ever admit it, it was Michaels favourite film, of all time.

"You think that's really what happened to the Ark?" Uriel asked.

"Yes, Uriel. I think that's exactly what happened." Cas replied, his tone utterly serious.

"Are you two actually shitting me?" Balth asked, stunned.

" _I_ was being sarcastic. Dean showed me how." Cas said. "I cannot speak for Uriel."

The room of Angels simultaneously to look at Uriel who only shrugged.

"I cannot believe I am related to you." Anna said and with a swoosh [swoosh] she disappeared.

"I guess that's the movie night over. See you in a millenia or so." Raphael stated, and he too left with a swoosh [swoosh].

"See you later bitches!" Gabe and Balth said and swooshed out [swoosh] in unison.

Uriel, Cas and the other remaining angels swooshed [swoosh] out too, leaving only Michael and Lucifer sat alone in the room with the TV still playing the credits.

"I'm ure God-" Michael started.

"Fuck of Mich!" Lucifer said swooshing out [swoosh].

"Well screw you too." Michael said to the empty room.

With a click of his fingers the room ceased to exist and then he too swooshed out [swoosh] to his high and mighty pompous mister boss man abode.


	24. Plot Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where is he? How did he get here? And who the hell is she?

"Where did you put him?!" Dean demaded, Ruby's knife held threateningly against YEDs pinky finger.

"Why is it always _my_ fault?!" YED said scandalised. "I didn't touch him! Well I _did_ but as his boyfriend that is totally normal you know."

"Ew shut up." Dean said, pressing the cool edge of the knife closer to his skin.

"Hey! That's my dad!" Meg said outraged.

"Yeah," Sam said with a shrug, "Since when do you care?"

"WEll if you must know since he... shut up." Meg said, her voice drawling. She rolled her eyes and locked Dean in a deadly stare, a glint in her eye. Before anyone could blink, Meg was sitting on the back of a ooth across the room, feet crossed and popped up on the table, knife spinnng between her fingers. "Oh boys, you just don't learn do you?"

"Come on Meg." Sam said imploringly.

"Oh Sam, you know me." She said then turned to address the room - Ellen, Jo, Emily, Matt, and Michael had all come in to join the fun - Meg rolled here eyes (her new habit apparently) "So anyway. You'll get this back when you play along with my Dad's little game."

"Since when are you and YED in cahoots?" Ellen asked quizzically.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?!" Meg exclaimed exasperated. She threw her hands up in the air and promptly left the room. Knife tucked through her belt into her back pocket.

"So... what now...?" Matt said.

"Will we can't let her keep that knife can we." Michael said, "Right?"

"Yeah that's right, isn't it Bug?" Emily said ruffling Matt's hair.

"Ok you heard the girl. We get that knife back." Dean said.

"But how?" Sam said. "I mean are you seriously telling me you're considering actually doing what YED says?!"

Everyone looked at each other and shrugged.

"Oh seriously? Come on!" 

"You got a better idea buck-o?" Jo said.

Sam stammered out a few meaningless words, struggled, spluttered, and gave in.

"Fine. Mr Azazel, what would you have us do?"

"Finally!" YED exclaimed! "Ladies! Gentlemen! Gentlepersons! Gather round!"

Nervously the crowd approached him and formed a circle around him.

"SOOOOO!!!" YED called and they all cringed with terror in anticipation of what ever YED had in store for them. "As you all know my ever so obliging daughter has your precious knife. And as Sammy and Deano here know I have Jawn hid away like a lil easter egg."

"You what?!" Ellen exclaimed. "Boys?"

"Yeah... he... sorta... hid him... uh..." Sam replied.

"How could you let this happen?!"

"Us?!" Dean said incredulous. "Do you think we keep tabs on him 24/7. What about you? You're just as responsible as we are!"

"Excuse me! He's your father!" Ellen retorted.

"And that counts for what? We're about as close with him as we are with a tarantula, but he needs us, so we're gonna help him. Cos that's what family is. Are you gonna give us a hand or not?"

"Fine, but... you owe us!"

"No we don't. He owes us." Sam said.

"Fine."

"You all finished?" YED spoke up once again, getting their attention, "Yes? Good. Now if you're sitting comfortably then I'll begin."

And YED began to explain. It turned out he wanted to play a game. He had hidden John away some place and he wanted them to find him. But he did not want them to find him easily. Oh no. YED wanted them to go on a wild goose chase. Oh no wait, I'm sorry a scavenger hunt with hints and clues and all sorts of hard work type things that did not sound like any fun at all.

__  
  


_What feels like an eternity later when the crew have spent said eternity (forty five minutes) running all over the place only to return back to one Roadhouse pitstop come home of the Hellverse crew_

 

 

“Thats it! No more! I am done!” a voice said from one of the sofas.

“Me too! I am through! YED, you can keep John! He was a dick anyway!” Jo shouted to the ether where YED was hiding.

“SCREW YOU YED!!” a strange voice shouted out.

“Wait who is that?”

“Who’s who?”

“That guy who just said ‘screw you yed’”

“Oh you guys talking about me?” the voice said.

“Yeah you. Who are you?”

“Oh. Satan.” The voice said.

“Haha who are you really?”

“No. I really am. I’m satan, the devil, Lucifer.” He said.

“We already discussed this.” Another new voice said, female this time.

“Wait who are you?”

“Well you know it would really help if you guys weren’t all sitting there with your eyes shut.” The female voice said.

“No. We’ve given up looking at things on principal. Never again. These eyes are remaining shut until the end of forever.”

“Hear hear!” the rest mumbled.

“So are we really talking to satan or just some random stranger?”

“Yes I really am satan, and this here is my dear friend Anna.”

“Hi, welcome to the club. There are a few rooms left up stairs, do your own laundry and don’t ever oblige to going along with YED’s plans. Just don’t.” Jo said laying down the rules.

“Aren’t you guys at all concerned that the devil has joined you?” Anna asked.

“Well one you can talk, and two we are a bunch of hunters that live with three demons a vampire a witch and an angel. Do you really think the devil is going to bother us much?” Emily said.

“Good point.” Anna said and plonked herself down next to Patrick.

“How did you guys get here anyhow?” Shipper boy asked.

“Oh it was easy. Plot hole. The last chapter with you guys doesn’t really match up with the beginning of this one now does it?” Luci said.

“Huh yeah you’re right. Hadn’t noticed.” Sam said.

“Yeah well we just jumped through that. Easy as tying your shoe laces.” Anna said.

“Hello boys.” A british voice said.

“Crowley?” Dean asked, eyes still resolutely closed.

“That’s right.” Another britsh voice said, female this time.

“Who’s that?”

“Not this again.” Anna said rolling her eyes. “That’s Bela Talbot and Crowley. They followed us through the plot hole. Those things are so much easier to travel through than worm holes! Just need a lazy writer, and there are plenty of those to go around!”

“Right.” Sam said. “Coffee anyone?” there was a mumble from the room and sam sighed, and got up to make a round of coffee for the five billion guests at the Roadhouse.


	25. CHRISTMAS!!!! Wrapping and Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas bitches!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Fucking Christmas readers!

Sam sat in the coffee shop in the mall on his third cup of coffee in the past hour. He was supposed to be buying Luther a Christmas present. The thing was he sucked royal balls at gift giving. Really really sucked. One year he had given Dean one of those Christmas tree air freshener thingys that you hang from the rear view mirror thingy. Dean was less than impressed. Very very less than impressed. Sam was forced to sit in the back seat of the Impala for over a week! He was determined that hiss gift to Luther would _not_ garner the same reaction.

Sam huffed and chugged down the rest of his now luke warm coffee. Steeling himself he stood up and set about actually doing this shopping thing that he had been telling himself he was going to do for the past three weeks. He was desperate to buy a less than horrendous present for his hot as fuck boyfriend.

Some hours later Sam was sat on the floor of his and Luther’s bedroom with the gift sitting on top of the wrapping paper staring at him menacingly. It was hideous. He knew it, the present knew it, it was an unavoidable fact of life that whatever Sam bought for people was destined to be hideously bad. He knew this and he was pretty sure Luther was the only person on the planet that didn’t know this. Just his luck. Which was why he was trying so hard this time. It was Christmas eve and it was far too late to go back and start again; he just had to face the fact that this was the worst gift ever and get on and wrap it so he didn’t have to see it again until Luther opened it. So he resigned himself to hiding this pathetic excuse for a gift under a mountain of pink Disney princess wrapping paper – the only kind he could find left in the house, or the only stuff Meg hadn’t hidden from him.

 _Fucking hell_ Sam thought sitting back and staring at the awfully wrapped awful gift. He wasn’t the worst gift wrapper there was, it certainly wasn’t a ball of sellotape but it was no beauty either. As he looked at it he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed in himself; there he was Sam Winchester, full scholarship to Stamford Law School incapable of doing the present thing.

The creak of the door opening and the clunk of heavy boots on the hard wood floor made Sam jump. He hurridly stuffed the thing under the bed.

Luther came up behind Sam and hooked one arm around him – over his shoulder across his chest – and used his now free other hand (having set the bottle of jack daniels on the floor beside them) he gently brought Sam’s face around to the left. He brushed a soft brief kiss on Sam’s lips that left the lingering taste of whiskey. Blood rushed to Sam’s cheeks; he was still not used to this. Luther rested his forehead against Sam’s and a sly smile spread across his face, a low guttural chuckle – or was it a pleased snarl? – eminated from him. Sam said nothing but a grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Luther drew back and stood up, letting out a low laugh this time. “Come on.” He said, “Meg wanted me to tell you they’re baking pies and ginger bread or some shit and need your help.”

“Since when are you carrying messages for Meg?” Sam asked with a laugh.

“Since it means I get to steal a kiss from you.” He replied and kissed Sam on the corner of the mouth. Sam stole a kiss for himself before making his way down stairs to join the others. Or rather to supervise the others.

“SAM!” Meg yelled from behind the bar. “Get over here! Jo is being an absolute dick!”

Sam jumped down the last few steps and across the room to the bar to see Jo sat atop the surface cross legged. Meg, stood next to her, was covered in some sort of brown sticky gunge. The same gunge the two of them had decidedly decorated the rest of the room with.

"Um... are you ok there?" He asked trying really hard not to laugh, and only  _just_ about managing it.

"This isn't funny!" Meg squealed, glaring up at Jo who was trying ohso very hard to look oh so very innocent. And failing as a result.

"Whaa-aat?" She said, not a hint of  _genuine_ surprise or remorse in her voice.

"I'm not cleaning up you're mess, you know that right?" Sam pointed out.

"Neither are we!" Ellen shouted from the other room.

"Anyway..." Sam said, "What did you ant me for?"

"Pastry."

"Bless you."

"No  _pastry_." Meg said.

"Oh pastry, you should have said." Sam said with a mischievous glint in his eye and the corner of his mouth twitching, giving him away. Meg punched his soulder lightly. "Isn't there a ton of the frozen stuff in the basement?"

"Was."

"What? You can't mean you used all of it up already?!" Sam asked. "What did you do?" His voice taking on the tone of a man who had heard many an 'experiment' gone wrong in the past.

"Well..." Meg began and Sam realised that maybe he didn't actually want to know the end of her sentence. "We tried to bake a giant pie... and um... well Dad was in charge of the fire... andyou know how he gets, got a bit carried away... it didn't end... well..."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure. Ok. I'll go get ingredients from the basement. Try not to blow the place up while I'm down there." Sam said and headed down stairs to the basement.

When he returned to the kitchen barely minutes later, arms laden with butter and flour and the like, Jo was licking gingerbread sludge from Meg's neck. Both were quietly giggling.

"Ahem..." Sam coughed awkwardly.

The two girls stopped 'canoodling' and looked up at him... then burst into hysterical laughter at his awkward and uncomfortable expression.

"Come on buck-o!" Meg cried. "You just gonna stand there? Or are you gonna get baking?!"

Sam chuckled and cleaned up the gingerbread sludge that Jo  _hadn't_ licked off Meg (just as he had specifically said he wouldn't do)and set about making the short crust pastry for their pie. It didn't take him very long.

"Right" he said, setting down the two large mixing bowls of the stuff. "Now don't... burn down the house... ok?" His voice the dictionary definition of skeptical. With a wary look at the two girls he headed back up stairs to join Luther, and maybe to sleep.


	26. CHRISTMAS DAY!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't you lucky readers! Two chapters in one day?! It must be Christmas or something!!

In the back room the crew were opening presents. After much persuasion from Meg, Jo, Bug Dude, Pyro Girl, and Shipper Boy, Luther had given in and joined them. The television having been moved to the corner of the room the twenty or so of them crowded in around the Christmas tree in amongst piles of unwrapped presents and a colossal mountain of wrapping paper. Ellen having long since stopped wasting energy trying to get them to clean up after themselves, was sat with a glass of champagne in one hand and a cigar in the other. Meg and Jo were whispering something to one another, and Pyro Girl and Bug Dude were fiddling with a tarantula tank BG had got for Christmas. Dean was sitting in the only armchair, Cas standing awkwardly on the arm of the chair, crouched like a bird or some shit. If you looked closely you could see Dean very subtly holding on to Cas's hand underneath the trench-coat. Crowley, Bela, Satan, and Lilith were sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree discussing the state of hell and the apocalypse, well probably. Crowley and Lucifer were definitely arguing over something though.

Sam was hiding in the kitchen. He had been charged with the cooking of Christmas dinner, with no help. Christmas dinner for twenty or so people was not an easy task and was, in fact, looking forward to Bobby and Jodie to turn up and give him a hand. The only two people willing to, apparently. Sam was hiding because he did not want to face Luther after having given him that gift. He had managed to extract himself from the room with the excuse of attending to the vegetables. Luther, fortunately hadn't followed him.

Sam chopped the carrots and put them in the industrial sized cooking pot to boil. He had risen early that morning to put the two large turkeys in the oven. They would be in the oven for another two hours still, so plenty of time to cook the vegetables. Chop chop chopping. Carrots, leeks, potatoes, parsnips. Potatoes and parsnips would be in the roasting tin, of course, and sprouts were a must. Soon enough the veg was on the boil and the roasting tray was ready for the potatoes and parsnips when they were finished boiling.

“Sam?” a low voice said.

“Yes?” Sam replied without turning around.

“ _Sam”_ the voice said again, more insistent this time, which had the effect of causing Sam to turn around to find it's owner standing, leaning against the door frame of the closed door to the back room, bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Luther...” Sam said breathily, warily.

“Are you avoiding me?” Luther said which made Sam slightly nervous, until he saw the smile hiding in Luther's eyes.

“Sorry.” Sam said tossing a tea towel into the sink.

“You know, believe it or not, I have received _worse_ presents in my time.”

“No you haven't.”

“Yes I have.”

“You have never been given a pair of _metal detector flip flops_ before have you?”

“No. But I have had worse. I _won't_ go into details, you really don't want to know. But trust me I've had worse.” As he said this Luther moved forward until he was close enough to put his hands in Sam's back pockets, which he did. “Merry Christmas Sammy.” he whispered into his ear.

The hot breath of Luther's words sent a tingle right through Sam. He pressed his body into Luther's and slid his hands into his pockets in return.

“You know you are a terrible _terrible_ person.” Sam said grinning.

“You love it.” Luther said into Sam’s ear again, gently he nipped Sam’s ear.

“Mmhmm” Sam mumbled trying very hard to remember that he needed to do the vegetables. Luther seemed to be trying very hard to stop that remembering thing.

Luther sniffed the vein running down Sam’s jaw line, which sent shudders down Sam’s spine, and then crushed his lips against Sam’s. Luther wasn't in a gentle mood, his kiss was hungry. Sam returned the favour his hands flying to tangle themselves in Luther's hair. Luther dropped the near empty bottle of whiskey on the side and pushed Sam against the wall. Sam let out a pleasured grunt and through their parted lips his tongue darted in and out, dancing hungry eager circles.

They broke apart for a brief moment to catch their breath before Luther slammed Sam back up against the wall again, his hands grasping Sam’s wrists tight against the wall. Sam was urged on by this and pressed himself further into the kiss.

“Sam?!” Bobby asked as he came in onto the scene.

Suddenly the boys broke apart Luther begrudgingly. Sam went all red in the face and spluttered a few incoherent words of apology.

“Oh tush!” Jodie said punching Bobby on the shoulder, “Let the boy have some fun! It's Christmas!”

“You keep acting like you're in charge or something.” Bobby said.

“Well, that's because I am.” Jodie replied. “You boys want to take this out of the kitchen? Don't worry Sam, we''ll rescue those vegetables!” Jodie laughed and dragged Bobby fully into the room.

Sam gave Luther a sheepish look to which Luther replied with a devilish smile.

“Go on you two! Get out of here!” Jodie told them, so they did.


	27. Strawberries

 The sun was long gone over the horizon, many hours since, in fact. A fire was burning in their room and the two of them were curled up on the sofa, as the rain thundered on the window pane. The hunter had his head tucked into his angel's shoulder. His angel rested his chin on the top of his hunter's head. There was a welcome silence in the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire and their breathing. Castiel was, after much acclimatisation, beginning to find it easier to relax like a human would. It had helped looking into the mind of his vessel and adopt some of his habits. Dean was very pleased when he had begun to notice this in Cas, but he wouldn't tell anyone this. Cas could see it though, in the way Dean smiled when he could more comfortably curl up with him.

The boys lay curled up there watching the fire as it crackled and burnt away, the flames dancing in the grate. Once or twice Dean got up to stoke the fire and add another log to burn, before returning to Cas' arms. It was warm and it was comfortable; sitting like that with Cas. They hadn't talked bout their relationship, of course not; this was Cas and Dean, but Dean understood Cas' boundaries. Dean didn't push, he wouldn't have wanted to, and this was enough for now. He was beginning to appreciate this side of the relationship. Not that he would have called it a relationship, he was still in denial, even after all this time.

Eventually sleep overcame Dean, and Cas was left with him asleep on his lap. He didn't mind, he rather enjoyed watching Dean sleep. Everyone looks so peaceful when they sleep, Dean's freckles shimmering in the firelight looked like the kisses of angels, which, of course, they were. Before long Castiel too welcomed a visit from sleep, and the two of them slept curled up on the sofa, fire burning in the grate and rain hammering down outside.

***

“I'm glad you came.” Ruby said. She was sat out the back of the roadhouse a bottle of wine in her left hand. She was looking at the row of trees that came up to the end of the back yard.

“I said I would.”

“I know. I'm glad you did.”

“Shut up.” Lilith said and she moved away from the tree line to join Ruby where she sat on the lawn on a picnic blanket, she took the bottle of wine and peered at the label, inspecting it. “Nice.”

The moon was bright and it was a cloudless night, perfect for stargazing. Ruby and Lilith sat and watched the stars, pointing out the constellations as they saw them. Ruby rested her head on Lilith's shoulder and Lilith wrapped her arm around her. At some point they opened the bottle of wine and shared it. Lying back on the pillows Ruby was glad the others were otherwise disposed. Not that she thought the others were likely to come out here ever but it was always tricky meeting up with Lilith who was always so cautious about the others knowing.

“Why do you avoid the others so adamantly?” Ruby asked at last. Her question was met with silence. “No really. Why?” and she turned her head to look directly at Lilith (whose eyes were still on the stars).

“Because they're hunters. And they want to kill me. And I want the apocalypse.”

“They wouldn't kill you.”

“Yes they would. In a heart beat. I'm surprised they haven't killed you. I don't want to die.” her voice had remained strong until now when it broke on the last word.

“I promise they won't kill you. And... well Lucifer is sort of already here.”

“Shut up. Don't joke with me.” Lilith said stiffly stubbornly holding back tears.

“I'm not. He really is here. I'd bet my soul he's playing poker with Bela, Crowley, and Ash right now.

“Shut up. I don't want to talk about that any more.” Lilith said and shifted her weight in the pillows. They lay in silence like that for a while, and eventually Ruby fell asleep on Lilith's shoulder. Lilith turned her head and saw Ruby sleeping there all peaceful her dark curls falling over her shoulder. She carefully extracted herself from beneath Ruby and placed her head on a pillow. She covered her in a blanket and kissed her on the forehead before she slunk away back through the tree line to her hideout.

***

The best room at the roadhouse was Jo's. Jo and Meg's room. It was an attic room with a fireplace and a row of windows along one wall with fitted blinds all along. The fire was burning in the grate on the left wall and Jo was curled up on the rug wrapped in a blanket, warming her toes by the fire. She sat in a trance, fixated by the flames, so she didn't notice when Meg returned with a tray laden with goodies. Hot chocolate with marshmallows, chocolate biscuits and cinnamon pastry puffs that Sam had made early that afternoon. So she was surprised when Meg joined her on the floor as she set down the tray in front of them.

“Ooh! You _are_ good!” Jo whispered and she picked up a mug and breathed in the hocho vapours.

“Mmh Sam _is_ a good cook.” Meg said. And they both laughed.

“To Sam’s cooking!” Jo cried and they toasted their hocho to him. There was a lull as they both drank from their glass mugs.

“You have cream on your nose.” Meg said.

“What are you going to do about it?” Jo asked mischievously. Meg read the glint in her eye perfectly and, in reply, leant forward and kissed it off her nose.

“Happy?” Meg asked.

“You tell me.” Jo said and leaned in again and kissed Meg lightly.

They sat back and returned to their hot chocolates. Meg picked up a biscuit and dipped it in her hot chocolate and fed it to Jo.

When they had finished their hocho and biscuits they sat back and gazed into the fire. Jo stoked it occasionally, and that is how they fell asleep; curled up together in front of a low burning fire.


	28. I got 99 Problems and 63 is One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean wake up to an unwelcome surprise, but that isn't the worst thing that will happen to Dean today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret writing this chapter. I have no idea how I thought this would be in anyway not problematic. As of yet I am undecided as to whether or not I want to delete this chapter. However, for the time being, I will keep it here with this disclaimer for my young and naive self. Spoilers in this next bit.
> 
> Trigger warnings: rule 63, gender bend, which is actually a body swap kind of deal, menstruation, im not sure how to tag it, basically Sam and Dean somehow end up in biologically female bodies. No explanation, and need to turn back.
> 
> This was not in anyway thought out. Please don't hate me.

Luther rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He was ...sticky... from the night before and was eager to be clean again. He ran the shower stepping in before the water had the chance to warm at all. The ice cold water splattered down over his body, shocking him into awakedness. The water slowly warmed and by the time he was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair it was scorching. He stood in the boiling water letting it scold his skin. With a sigh he shut off the water and stepped out into the steaming bathroom. He pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. He took a second towel and used it to rub his hair dry.

He sauntered back into the bedroom with the second towel slung over his shoulders. He found a vaguely clean pair of underwear and tugged them on. His jeans were floating around somewhere, but as he went around the bed to look for them on Sam's side, where he was still sleeping, Sam rolled over waking up. Or at least he thought it was Sam.

Lying in the space that should have been occupied by Sam's body was a distinctly not Sam shaped body. Hair waist length (although it wasn't so inconceivable that it could have reached this long by now) and boobs. Last time Luther had checked Sam definitely didn't have boobs. Was there no limit to the fuckery in this place?

Luther shook himself back to the moment. If he hadn't been living in the roadhouse (which he sincerely thought they ought to rename the mad house, opposed greatly by Meg who was in favour of calling it the rad house). He shook the imposter awake, not entirely sure what he should expect in the few seconds that followed before two eyes flickered open to meet his.

“Hey.” Luther said. 

“Hey babe.” The imposter said, a warm smile spreading nearly from ear to ear.

“Excuse me?”

“What? Suddenly not fond of cutesy names? I shouldn't be surprised.” Luther said nothing. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Well I wasn't expecting to see this when I woke up, now was I?” Luther said brusquely, eyeing the offending boobages.

“See what?” Boob said, and looked down. “Holy shit! Luther what the fuck?!”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Get dressed. We gotta go ask the others what the fuck is going on.” 

Luther nodded and pulled on his clothes numbly. He knew there was always something weird going on in this mad house but this was fucked up. 

***

“*Wolf whistle* Wuh-hey! Who’s the hot chick?” Ash cried out upon seeing Sam and Luther enter the bar. 

“Sam.” Luther said, heading straight to the bar. He grabbed a bottle of whisky and tore the lid off with his teeth.

“You’re shitting me? Right?” Ash said incredulously. 

“No. Am I the only one who’s lost their junk?” Sam asked. His reply was a yell from upstairs and thundering feet.

A girl with short blonde hair bounded into the room with a confused look on her face. “Sam?” She asked.

“Dean?”

“Yeah!” She said, “What the fuck is going on?”

“I dunno man; but this is really weirding me out.”

“You’re telling me!”

At this point Meg came into the room. A grin spread across her face.

“Oh my God.”

“Shut up.” The Winbros (or Winsis’?) said in unison. She ignored them.

“This is so going on my twitter!”

“It better fucking not!” Dean growled. 

Meg chuckled and whipped her iPhone out of her back pocket. Before either of them could stop her she’d snapped a picture of them both and it was uploaded. 

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean shouted and smashed her phone to the ground, or at least tried to. Meg had obviously been expecting this sort of reaction and had used her telekinesis powers to catch it before the phone hit the floor and smashed.

“Careful, careful! You don’t want to get on my bad side, do you?” Meg said and winked at Sam. 

Dean made to move towards her but Sam’s restraining hand stopped him.

“Your brother…or, ah, sister has some sense at least.”

“Look, Dean, we’ve got to be rational about this.”

“Yeah ok… um, how do we do that again?”

“I don’t know?! Look, we’ll wait for Ellen to get up and then we’ll ask her. If she doesn’t have a clue then we’ll ask Bobby. Ok?”

“Right, sure.” Dean took a few breathes and looked down. He looked back up again, smiled and said, “Dude I got my own boobs.”

Sam cuffed him around the ear and went to make coffee. 

***

“I don’t know what’s going on…” Ellen said, “My best guess would be to speak to Missouri. She’s gone back to Kansas, so you two had better get going.”

“Sure. Thanks Ellen.” Sam said. To their surprise she pulled them both into a hug.

“Don’t get into any trouble now. I know what you’re like. Now go on! Get outta here!”

***

Luther sat in the corner booth, brooding over his bottle of whisky. He watched as rhe two brothers slung their coats over their shoulders and headed out the door. What the actual fuck was wrong with the people in this mad house?

***

“Coffee?” Sam asked as he got out of the Impala to fill her up with gas. 

“Yeah.” Dean said. “Oh! And see if they have any pie!” Then he muttered “I love me some pie!”

“Sure.” Sam said and slammed the door shut. 

Dean shifted and leaned back in his seat. It was mid-afternoon and he had been napping the entire way there.

A sharp pain overcame him as if he was being stabbed from the inside. After a moment it dulled but he began to feel queasy. 

Suddenly the pain gripped him again but this time it didn’t subside. He hunched over forward, clenching his fists, eyes squeezed shit. He was panting. He felt sick. Oh God! What’s happening?! He thought. He opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Blood soaked his jeans and covered the leather of the back seat. He jumped up and bolted out of the car. Fear overcame him. What the fuck is happening to me?! He thought.

At that moment Sam came back, carrying pie and coffee. 

“Dean?” He asked, “Are you okay?”

“What the hell is happening?” Dean spluttered, “What’s going on?!” 

“I don’t know… look, tell me what happened.”

“Like, I woke up from my nap and… there was this terrible pain in my stomach. Like I was being stabbed or something! And then like there was blood. Everywhere. What’s happening?!”

“Um, well, either demons or…”

“OR WHAT?!”

“Whoa! Calm down! Or…” Sam stifled a chuckle, “You’ve got your period.”

“No. Way.” Dean said, “This is not happening to me!”

“Actually it sort of is.”

“Shut your pie-hole!” Dean snapped. Sam held his hands up (the coffee and pie having been placed atop the car).

Dean leant against the Impala and sank to the floor. He hugged his knees to his chest. He tried to rest his chin on his knees but when he leant his head forward, he was obstructed by his boobs. 

“Son of a BITCH!” He spat.

“Look, you go in there and get some tampons. I’ll clean up out here then we’ll figure this out.”

Dean turned pale as a sheet. “I do not have a clue about tampons. Oh shit. Fuck everything!”

He stood up and stormed into the gas station’s store. Sam watched him go. When he was safely out of earshot he couldn’t help but reward himself with a brief laugh. He thanked his lucky stars that it had been Dean and not him to get their period. He thanked his lucky stars again that he hadn’t been born with a uterus. God, could you imagine hunting when on your period? And vampires would be out of the question.

Vampires. His mind was cast back to Luther at the Roadhouse. He really hoped this body transformation wasn’t permanent. He didn’t think Luther would much like this version of himself… He sighed and brought himself back to the present. He needed to clean up the mess in the back seat before Dean got back. He set the pie and coffee down on the hood of the Impala and fished some cleaning shit out of the trunk.

 


End file.
